/<^±!:'''^^ 


V 


IT- 2 


J  (D)  M  If      B  U  H  T  A  M 


SUB    TIME! 

AND 

C3^  AKACTERi  ST  i  CS 

OF 


JL  O  WJDi  O  N., 


LIFE,  TIMES,  AND  CHARACTEIil-STIfiS--^ 


JOHN  BUNYAN, 


:/^^"/(;aiS^^:---" 


AUTHOR  OF  THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS, 


ROBERT  ""PHILIP, 


AUTHOR   OF 
THE  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF  WHITEFIELD  ;  THE  EXPERIMENTAL  GUIDES,  S-c. 


Tliough  thou  hast  "  lien  amongst  the  pots,  yet  shall  thou  be  as 
the  wings  of  a  dove,  covered  with  silver,  and  her  feathers  with 
j'ellow  gold." — David. 


LONDON : 
GEORGE  VIRTUE,  26,  IVY  LANE. 

1839. 


LONDON : 
R.    CLAY,    PRINTER,    BREAD    STREET    HILL. 


TO 


THOMAS  THOMPSON,  ESQ. 


THE  HONOURABLE  MRS.  THOMPSON, 


OF  POUNDSFORD  PARK,  SOMERSETSHIRE, 


AXD   VANBURGH  HOUSE,   GREENWICH, 


^xk  of  2$uttgan*!ss  laemainis 


IS  DEDICATED, 


BY       THEIR       FRIEND, 


THE  AUTHOR. 


Newington  Green, 
Jan.  1,  1839. 


PREFACE. 


Foreigners  have  long  wondered,  tliat  a  century  and  a  half 
should  have  passed  away  without  producing  a  Life  of  Bunyan. 
We  ourselves  can  hardly  explain  this  anomaly  in  our  biographical 
literature.  It  has  certainly  not  arisen,  however,  from  any  national 
indifference  to  Bunyan.  Perhaps,  the  real  reason  is,  that  we 
identify  him  with  his  Pilgrim  :  for  Christian  is,  in  one  sense,  as 
Montgomery  has  well  said,  "  a  whole-length  Portrait  of  the  Author 
himself."  We  thus  feel  that  we  can  know  nothing  better  of 
Bunyan  ;  and  therefore  we  let  our  curiosity  fall  asleep.  And  yet, 
it  ought  to  occur  to  us,  that  he  was  not  likely  to  tell  all  the  best, 
concerning  himself,  even  in  an  Allegory ;  for  he  was  as  modest 
as  he  was  frank.  Besides,  his  Pilgrim  never  writes  Books,  nor 
preaches  Sermons  ;  and  thus  neither  the  literary  nor  the  ministerial 
life  of  Bunyan  has  any  place  in  the  Allegory.  In  like  manner, 
neither  Doubting  Castle,  nor  the  Cage  at  Vanity  Fair,  is  any 
emblem  of  his  own  imprisonment  in  Bedford  Jail. 

These  considerations  would  have  weighed  with  the  public,  and 
even  led  to  a  demand  for  a  real  Life  of  Bunyan,  long  ago,  had  not 
every  new  biographical  Sketch,  repeated  merely  the  old  facts. 
This  repressed  curiosity  ;  especially  when  neither  Dr.  Sou  they  nor 
Mr.  Conder  added  any  thing  to  the  old  facts,  but  new  and  beautiful 
forms.  Even  Mr.  Ivimey,  the  historian  of  the  Baptists,  made  but 
few  discoveries,  although  he  threw  some  valuable  lights  upon  both 
"  the  Pilgrim  "  and  "  Grace  Abounding." 

There  is  neither  censure  nor  sarcasm  in  these  remarks.  No  one, 
perhaps,  who  had  only  a  literary  purpose  to  answer,  would  have 
"  prepared  an  Ark  for  the  saving  "  of  Bunyan's  Remains  :  whereas, 
the  Author  of  this  Volume  had  to  complete  the  design  of  his 
"  Experimental  Guides  for  the  Perplexed  and  Doubting,"  by  an 
explanation  of  the  wonderful  and  mysterious  experience  of  John 


VI  PREFACE. 

Bunyan.  He  had  thus  a  motive  which  compelled  him  to  search 
diligently.  He  had  also,  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic,  a  circle  of 
readers,  large  enough  for  his  ambition,  and  upon  whom  he  could 
calculate,  if  his  researches  were  successful.  They  have  been  so, 
beyond  even  his  most  sanguine  expectations.  He  discovered  much 
that  was  unknown  or  unnoticed  hitherto,  as  well  as  much  to 
enlarge  and  illustrate  what  is  best  known  in  the  history  of  Bunyan. 
Whilst,  therefore,  the  Work  is  partly  experimental,  it  is  chiefly 
biographical,  and  intended  equally  for  the  world  and  the  Church. 
It  claims,  indeed,  to  be  as  complete  a  Life  of  Bunyan,  as  his  own 
documents,  or  the  traditions  of  his  country,  can  furnish,  at  this 
late  period :  for  although  as  the  Ark  of  his  Remains,  it  has  more 
pitch  than  paint  upon  it,  and  is  rather  Puritanical  than  fashionable 
in  its  shape,  it  is  not  ill  stored  with  facts,  nor  overloaded  with 
private  opinions.  There  are,  indeed,  both  opinions  and  principles 
in  it,  and  not  few  of  them  ;  but  they  are  neither  '•'  cj-eeping 
things"  in  their  form,  nor  uncatholic  in  their  spirit.  They  are  not 
ceremonious  ;  but  they  are  never  sectarian,  except  Protestantism 
be  so. 

This  Volume  will  be  followed  by  a  Standard  Family  Edition  of 
the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  from  Bunyan 's  revised  text ;  and  illustrated 
by  old  Prints  or  new  Drawings  of  its  local  Scenery,  and  with  Notes 
chiefly  from  his  own  pen.  Some  of  the  Prints  were  intended  for 
his  Life ;  but  only  that  of  his  Cottage  could  be  finished  in  time. 
When  ready,  however,  they  may  be  had,  separately,  to  bind  up 
with  this  Volume. 

The  Author  has  been  much  facilitated  in  his  researches  by 
Librarians  especially.  As  usual,  he  is  not  a  little  indebted  to  his 
friend  Joshua  Wilson,  Esq.  and  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Belcher  o^  Bunyan 
Chapel,  Greenwich.  His  obligations  to  friends  at  Bedford  are 
acknowledged  in  the  body  of  the  Work.  To  his  friend  Mr. 
William  Dash,  of  Kettering,  he  is  indebted  for  the  best  of  the  old 
editions  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress ;  to  Mr.  Althens,  Jun.,  for  the 
loan  of  Boetius  a'  Bolswerts'  Pilgrim,  of  1627  ;  to  Mr.  R.  Baines, 
for  not  a  few  scarce  books ;  to  B.  Hanbury,  Esq.  of  the  Bank ; 
and  last,  though  not  least,  to  the  Baptist  College  at  Bristol. 

R.  P. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

PAGE 

I. 

Bunyan's  Boyhood 

1 

IL 

BUNYAN    IN    THE    ArMY        . 

14 

III. 

Bunyan's  Marriage 

21 

IV. 

Bunyan's  First  Reformation 

27 

V. 

Bunyan's  Second  Reformation 

39 

VI. 

Bunyan's  Conversion 

49 

VIT. 

Bunyan's  Conflicts 

65 

VIII. 

Bunyan's  Counsellors 

92 

IX. 

Bunyan's  Relapses 

100 

X. 

Bunyan's  Temptations 

111 

XI. 

Bunyan's  Revivals 

125 

XII. 

Bunyan  and  Luther 

138 

XIII. 

Satan  and  his  Angels 

145 

XIV. 

Bunyan's  Crisis 

161 

XV. 

Bunyan's  Baptism 

206 

XVI. 

Bunyan's  Sick  Bed 

214 

XVII. 

Bunyan's  Call  to  the  Ministry 

222 

XVIII. 

Bunyan  and  the  Quakers     . 

.     232 

XIX. 

Bunyan's  Example 

.     240 

XX. 

Bunyan's  Ministerial  Position 

.     249 

XXI. 

Bunyan's  Arrest    . 

264 

XXII. 

Bunyan's  Trial 

280 

XXIII. 

Bunyan's  Defence 

297 

Vlll 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER 

PAGE 

XXIV. 

BtJNYAN's  Second  Wife 

.     308 

XXV. 

BUNYAN    AND    THE    PrAYER    BoOK  . 

.     316 

XXVI. 

Bunyan's  Favourite  Sermon 

.     322 

XXVII. 

Bunyan's  Thunderbolts 

.     332 

XXVIII. 

Bunyan's  Anecdotes    . 

.     341 

XXIX. 

Bunyan's  Jailor  .... 

.     359 

XXX. 

Bunyan  and  the  Baptists  . 

.     369 

XXXI. 

Bunyan's  Prison  Thoughts 

.     377 

XXXII. 

Bunyan's  Prison  Amusements    . 

.     393 

XXXIII. 

Bunyan's  Moral  Philosophy     . 

.     410 

XXXIV. 

Bunyan's  Wit     .... 

.     424 

XXXV. 

Bunyan's  Conceits 

.     441 

XXXVI. 

Bunyan's  Church  Persecuted    . 

.     450 

XXXVII. 

Bunyan's  Pastoral  Letters 

.     459 

XXXVIIT. 

Bunyan's  Calvinism    . 

.     477 

XXXIX. 

Bunyan's  Trinitarianism 

.     486 

XL. 

Bunyan's  Catholicity 

.     495 

XLI. 

Bunyan's  Release 

.     503 

XLII. 

Bunyan's  Calumniators 

.     509 

XLIII. 

Bunyan's  Pastorship 

.     536 

XLIV. 

Bunyan's  Bibliography 

.     546 

XLV. 

Bunyan's  Last  Days  . 

.     566 

XLVI. 

Traditions  and  Relics  of  Bunyan    . 

.     578 

XLVII. 

Bunyan's  Genius 

.     588 

!f'ii!5 


^w^nrnvn 


Of 
PHIHCJSTGIT 
HEC.  FhfcibBi 

THE  ^^'vy^^^r^vv*^*^ 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN, 


CHAPTER  I. 


BUNYAN  S    BOYHOOD. 


A  STRAXGER,  wlio  admires  and  loves  Buiiyan,  approaches 
Bedford  as  a  poet  or  a  divine  would  enter  Smyrna ;  the 
former  thinking  only  of  Homer,  and  the  latter  only  of 
Polycarp  ;  and  both  trying  how  vividly  they  can  realize 
the  image  of  their  favourite,  amidst  the  scenes  once  conse- 
crated by  his  presence,  and  still  enshrined  by  his  memory. 
It  is  no  difficult  thing,  I  suppose,  for  a  real  poet,  if  he 
believes  Herodotus,  to  imagine  the  rocks  of  Smyrna  vocal 
yet  with  the  harp  of  Homer  ;  nor  for  a  real  Christian,  if 
he  credits  Eusebius,  to  mistake  the  evening  sun-light  upon 
them,  for  the  last  glimmerings  of  Polycarps  martyr-pile. 
Even  I  felt  no  difficulty,  on  entering  Bedford,  and  walking 
around  it,  to  associate  every  thing  with  Bunyan,  or  to 
enshrine  any  thing  with  his  Pilgrim.  The  town,  indeed, 
did  not  seem  to  me  "the  City  of  Destruction;"  and  the 
bridge  was  too  good,  and  the  water  too  clear,  to  allow  the 
river  to  be  regarded  as  "  the  Slough  of  Despond  :"  but  it 
was  hardly  possible  not  to  see  Christian  in  every  poor 
man  who  carried  a  burden,  and  Christiana  in  every  poor 
woman  who  carried  a  market-basket  in  one  hand,  and  led 


/ 


I  LIFE  OF  BUNYAN. 

a  child  with  the  other.  One  sweet-looking-  peasant  girl, 
also,  might  have  been  Mercy's  youngest  sister.  She 
would  have  been  beautiful  anywhere  ;  but  she  was  enchant- 
ing upon  the  spot  where  Bunyan's  Mercy  (that  finished 
portrait  of  female  loveliness)  had  ivalked  and  wept.  In 
like  manner,  any  ragged  urchin,  if  only  robust  and  bois- 
terous enough,  and  evidently  the  ringleader  of  fun  or 
mischief,  seemed  the  hoi/  Bunyan  himself,  although  only  a 
few  minutes  before  a  venerable  old  man  had  seemed  the 
very  personification  of  the  Baptist  Minister  of  Bedford  : 
but  no  one  seemed  to  be  the  Glorious  Dreamer,  although 
many  looked  sleepy  enough. 

There  is  wisdom  as  well  as  weakness  in  such  reveries, 
when  the  memory  that  inspires  them  is  really  immortal. 
If  Dr.  Johnson  was  warranted  to  say  at  Icolmkill,  **  Far 
from  me  be  such  frigid  philosophy  as  would  conduct  us 
indifferent  or  unmoved  over  any  ground  dignified  by 
wisdom,  bravery,  or  virtue  :  that  man  is  little  to  be  envied 
whose  piety  would  not  grow  warmer  among  the  ruins  of 
Zona — that  illustrious  island,  from  which  savage  clans  and 
roving  barbarians  derived  the  benefits  of  knowledge  and 
the  blessings  of  religion  ^"  any  man  who  can  feel  may 
rationally  give  way  to  all  his  feelings  at  Bedford  bridge, 
where  the  Glorious  Dreamer  conceived  and  wrote  The 
Pilgrim's  Progress.  That  one  book  has  diff'used  more 
light  over  Christendom,  than  lona  ever  did  over  the 
Hebrides,  even  when  it  was  "  the  luminary  of  the  Cale- 
donian regions."  lona  will  never  be  the  light  of  the 
North  again :  but  the  Pilgrim  will  be  one  of  the  chief 
lights  of  the  world  until  the  end  of  time. 

It  is  strange,  but  it  is  true,  that  the  mind,  although 
occupied,  and  even  absorbed,  with  the  remote  as  well  as 
the  immediate  visions  of  Bunyan's  incalculable  influence 
upon  the  world  at  large,  should  yet  keep  the  eye  of  the 
musing  visitor  searching  the  fields  and  hedges  around 
Bedford,  for  spots  where  the  wild  tinker-boy  was  likely  to 


LIFE  OF  BUNYAN.  3 

have  played  at  cat,  and  taken  dang-erous  leaps,  and  robbed 
orchards.  It  is,  however,  impossible  not  to  pause  every 
now  and  then,  as  if  the  marks  of  his  heels  were  yet  visible 
on  the  other  side  of  the  ditches,  and  the  marks  of  his 
knife  upon  the  old  trees.  He  was  such  a  thorough  scape- 
grace whilst  a  boy,  that  all  marks  of  mischief  and  daring 
seem  left  by  him  alone. 

Bunyan  was  born  in  the  year  1628,  at  Elstow,  a  village 
near  Bedford.  His  father,  although  a  tinker,  and  thus,  of 
course,  a  tramper  often,  and  very  poor,  does  not  seem  to 
have  had  any  real  connexion  with  the  gypsy  tinkers. 
Bunyan  says,  indeed,  "  My  father's  house  (meaning  his 
descent)  was  of  that  rank  that  is  meanest  and  most  de- 
spised of  all  the  families  of  the  land."  This  implies  that 
they  had  somewhat  identified  themselves  with  the  gypsies, 
or  allowed  themselves  to  be  classed  with  them.  He  does 
not,  however,  say,  nor  insinuate,  that  his  parents  were 
personally  despised  by  their  neighbours,  or  that  they  were 
profligate.  I  have  now  before  me  two  old  Sketches  of  his 
Life,  which  state  that  they  were  "  honest,  and  bore  a  fair 
character.'*  He  himself  records  with  gratitude,  that  not- 
withstanding their  meanness  and  inconsiderableness,  God 
put  it  into  their  hearts  "  to  put  me  to  school,  to  learn  me 
both  to  read  and  write,  according  to  the  rate  of  other 
poor  men's  children." — Life  by  Himself. 

This  is  so  rarely  done  by  tinkers,  even  now,  that  the 
fact  warrants  the  report  of  the  "  fair  character"  of  his 
parents,  at  least  for  honesty  and  industry.  It  deserves 
special  notice  also,  that  Bunyan  does  not  ascribe  any  of 
his  own  vices  to  their  example.  He  says  nothing,  indeed, 
against  them.  On  the  other  hand,  however,  he  says  but 
little  in  their  favour,  except  that  they  sent  him  to  school ; 
and  that,  most  likely,  cost  them  nothing.  The  Harpur 
Grammar  School  in  Bedford,  founded  in  1556,  by  Sir  W. 
Harpur,  Mayor  of  London,  for  teaching  '*  grammar  and 
good  manners,"  was  then  open  to  the  children  of  the  poor  j 


LIFE  OF  BUNYAN. 


and  Elstow  itself,  as  the  seat  of  one  of  the  oldest  abbeys, 
may  have  had  some  charitable  foundation  of  the  same  kind. 
It  was  then  in  the  possession  of  the  Hilldersons,  and  con- 
tinued in  that  family  until  Whitbread  purchased  it.  The 
abbey  was  founded  in  the  reign  of  William  the  Conqueror, 
by  Judith,  his  niece,  the  then  Countess  of  Hunting"don  :  a 
fact  which  had,  perhaps,  no  small  influence  upon  her  illus- 
trious successor,  Selina,  when  she  consecrated  her  wealth, 
as  well  as  her  heart,  to  the  glory  of  God. 

If  Bunyan  was  educated  at  the  Harpur  School,  he  cer- 
tainly did  not  learn  ^^ good  mannerSy**  whatever  "gram- 
mar" he  acquired  there.  "  From  a  child,"  he  says,  *'  I 
had  but  few  equals,  (considering  my  years,  which  were 
then  but  tender  and  few,)  for  cursing,  swearing,  lying, 
and  blaspheming  the  holy  name  of  God.  Yea,  so  settled 
and  rooted  was  I  in  these  things,  that  they  became  as 
a  second  nature  to  me." 

Thus  the  school,  whatever  it  was,  had  no  moral  influence 
upon  the  pupil.  Bunyan  says  nothing  of  his  master, 
as  having  ever  interfered  by  the  rod  or  reproof  to  check  or 
warn  him,  when  he  began  his  open  ungodliness.  There 
is,  therefore,  some  reason  to  suspect,  that  his  teacher 
never  tried  at  all,  nor  his  parents  much,  to  bring  him  up 
in  the  fear  of  God.  This  is  a  painful  conclusion  :  but  I 
know  of  nothing  to  soften  it ;  except  we  suppose  that  he 
drew  the  picture  of  his  own  boyhood,  partly,  in  the  early 
life  of  his  Badman.  He  says  of  him,  "  From  a  child  he 
was  very  bad.  He  used  to  be,  as  we  say,  the  ringleader 
and  master-sinner  from  a  child ;  the  inventor  of  bad 
words,  and  an  example  of  bad  actions.  When  a  child,  his 
parents  scarce  knew  when  to  believe  he  spake  true.  He 
was  also  much  given  to  pilfer  and  steal  the  things  of  his 
fellow-children,  or  any  thing  at  a  neighbour's  house.  Yea, 
what  was  his  father's  could  not  escape  his  fingers.  All 
was  fish  that  came  to  his  net.  You  must  understand  me, 
of  trifles  :  for  being  yet  but  a  child,  he  attempted  no  great 


LIFE  OF  BUNYAN.  6 

matter,  especially  at  first.  He  was  also  g-reatly  given, 
and  that  whilst  a  lad,  to  grievous  cursing  and  swearing. 
He  counted  it  a  glory  to  swear  and  curse  ;  and  it  was  as 
natural  to  him  as  to  eat,  drink,  and  sleep." — Life  and 
Death  of  Mr.  Badman. 

This  is  not  only  very  like  what  Bunyan  says  of  himself 
in  his  own  Life  ;  but  it  is  told  with  an  ease  and  a  point, 
which  experience  alone  could  have  reached.  Mr.  Badman 
was,  no  doubt,  a  real  character,  whom  Bunyan  knew  and 
studied  :  but  he  certainly  studied  "  the  young  rogue's"  boy- 
hood, because  of  its  resemblance  to  his  own.  He  either 
saw  himself  reflected  in  that  lad ;  or  he  completed  Bad- 
man's  image  from  his  own  features,  to  heighten  its  effect. 
This  being  evidently  the  fact,  it  may  be  equally  true  that 
he  refers  to  his  own  parents,  when  he  says,  "  To  my  know- 
ledge," young  Badman's  "  way  of  living  was  a  great  grief 
to  his  parents  ;  for  their  hearts  were  much  dejected  at  this 
beginning  of  their  son.  Nor  did  there  want  counsel  or 
correction  from  them  to  him,  if  that  would  have  made  him 
better.  He  was  told  over  and  over  again,  in  my  hearing, 
that  all  liars  should  have  their  portion  in  the  lake  that 
burnetii  with  fire  and  brimstone."  "  I  dare  (to)  say,  he 
learned  none  of  his  wicked  things  from  his  father  and 
mother,  nor  was  he  admitted  to  go  much  abroad  among 
other  children  that  were  vile,  to  learn  to  sin  of  them." 

If  there  be  any  reference  here  to  his  own  parents,  it 
will  account  for  the  fact,  that  he  never  blames  them  for  a 
bad  example  ;  and  it  will  explain  his  "  fearful  looking  for 
of  judgment  and  fiery  indignation,"  whilst  he  was  but  a 
boy.  That  is  unaccountable,  perhaps,  otherwise.  The 
following  picture  of  his  conscience  tells  at  once,  that 
solemn  truths  had  been  lodged  in  his  memory,  and  fixed 
in  his  imagination,  by  some  human  means,  whatever  they 
were.  "  Even  in  my  childhood,  the  Lord  did  scare  and 
aflfrighten  me  with  fearful  dreams,  and  did  terrify  me  with 
fearful  visions.     For  often,  after  I  had  spent  this  and  the 


b  LIFE  OF  BUNYAN 

other  day  in  sin,  I  have  m  mj  bed  been  greatly  afflicted 
while  asleep,  with  the  apprehension  of  devils  and  wicked 
spirits,  who  still,  as  I  then  thought,  laboured  to  draw  me 
away  with  them :  of  which  I  could  never  be  rid. 

*'  Also  I  should  at  these  years,  be  greatly  afflicted  and 
troubled  with  the  thoughts  of  the  fearful  torments  of  hell- 
fire  :  still  fearing,  that  it  would  be  my  lot  to  be  found 
at  last  among  those  devils  and  hellish  fiends,  who  are 
bound  down  with  the  chains  and  bonds  of  darkness,  unto 
the  judgment  of  the  great  day. 

"  These  things,  I  say,  when  I  was  but  a  child, — but 
nine  or  ten  years  old — did  so  distress  my  soul,  that  then 
in  the  midst  of  my  many  sports  and  childish  vanities, 
amidst  my  vain  companions,  I  was  often  cast  down  and 
afflicted  in  my  mind  therewith :  yet  could  I  not  let  go  my 
sins.  Yea,  I  was  also,  then,  so  overcome  with  despair  of 
life  and  heaven,  that  I  should  often  wish,  either  that  there 
had  been  no  hell,  or  that  I  had  been  a  devil,  supposing 
they  were  only  tormentors :  or  that  if  it  must  needs  be  I 
went  thither,  I  might  rather  be  a  tormentor  than  be  tor- 
mented myself." 

All  this  is  somewhat  too  much,  both  in  vividness  and 
variety,  even  for  the  mind  of  Bunyan ;  unless  we  suppose 
that  his  parents,  or  his  schoolmaster,  or  somebody  else, 
had  occasionally  plied  him  with  scriptural  arguments 
against  sin.  True,  the  mental  elements  of  the  man  were 
in  the  boy,  even  then ;  and  he  had  evidently  read  the 
Scriptures,  and  remembered  their  haunting  visions  of  the 
wrath  to  come.  It  is  impossible,  however,  to  refer  to 
them  his  wish  to  be  a  devil,  that  thus  he  might  be  a  tor- 
mentor, instead  of  being  tormented  by  devils.  There  is 
nothing  in  the  Bible  to  suggest  this  daring  and  desperate 
wish  :  whereas  there  is,  and  always  has  been,  in  the  vague 
generalities  of  popular  talk,  something  akin  to  the  idea, 
that  the  devil  and  his  angels  inflict  more  suffering  upon 
the  lost  in  hell   than  they  themselves  endure. 


LIFE  OF  BUNYAN.  7 

I  am  not  anxious  to  arrive  at  a  certain  conclusion  m 
this  matter,  although  I  thus  go  into  the  question  of  the 
origin  of  his  "  fearful  dreams,"  and  of  his  daring  imagin- 
ings. All  I  want  to  show  is,  that  whilst  his  night-dreams 
may  be  traced  to  the  Bible,  his  day-dreams  about  the  work 
of  devils  in  the  invisible  world  must  be  traced  to  some 
other  source ;  and  none  is  so  likely  as  parental  warning. 
We  know  from  Bunyan  himself,  that  his  father  was  not 
unacquainted  with  the  Bible  :  "I  asked  my  father,"  he 
says,  "  whether  we  were  Israelites  or  no.  For,  finding 
in  Scripture,  that  they  were  once  the  peculiar  people  of 
God,  thought  I,  if  I  were  one  of  the  race,  my  soul  must 
needs  be  happy.  My  father  told  me,  *  No,  we  were  not.'" 
Now,  although  this  question  was  put  after  his  marriage, 
still,  it  reveals  his  opinion  of  his  father's  knowledge  ;  for, 
after  having  pondered  the  query  long,  he  says,  "  At  last  I 
asked  my  father."  One  reason  for  this  was,  no  doubt,  a 
fancy  that  there  might  be  some  connexion  between  the 
Jews  and  the  gypsies  :  but  it  is  equally  evident  that  he  had 
also  some  confidence  in  his  father's  judgment.  Hence, 
when  that  was  against  him,  he  said,  "  Then  I  fell  in  spirit 
as  to  that  hope,  and  so  remained."  Once  also,  when  he 
was  silenced  and  put  to  shame  by  a  reproof  from  a  godless 
woman,  he  says,  '^  I  wished,  with  all  my  heart,  that  I  was 
a  little  child  again,  that  vay  father  might  learn  me  to  speak 
without  swearing." 

Even  his  "  fearful  dreams  and  visions"  themselves  prove, 
by  their  effect  upon  his  spirits,  and  especially  by  the 
despair  they  threw  him  into  when  he  awoke,  that  he 
must  have  seen  and  heard  others,  who  had  similar  views  of 
Eternal  Judgment.  A  mere  boy  was  utterly  unlikely  to 
apply  to  himself  the  fiercest  terrors  of  the  wrath  to  come, 
if  he  had  never  met  with  any  one  to  point  him  to  them,  as 
deserved  by  himself.  The  fear  of  them  haunted  him  even 
in  the  "  very  midst  of  his  sports  and  vain  companions :"  a 
fact  which  proved  that  he  knew  the  opinion  of  some  of  his 


8  LIFE  OF  BUNYAN. 

neighbours  in  regard  to  himself.  Indeed,  nothing  is  more 
likely,  than  that  he  was  often  reproved  and  warned  by  th^ 
Puritans  of  Elstow  and  Bedford.  His  vices  were  just 
those,  which  the  godly  men  and  women  of  that  age  would 
most  loudly  condemn,  and  most  solemnly  threaten.  His 
very  sports  were  an  abomination  to  them  :  for  the  popular 
games  were  then  associated  with  principles  which  the 
Puritans  both  hated  and  dreaded.  He  would,  therefore, 
have  been  often  warned  and  reproved  on  the  common, 
when  a  Puritan  passed  by,  even  if  oaths  and  blasphemies 
had  not  been  mingled  with  his  sports  ;  and  as  they  were 
the  very  shouts  of  his  gambols,  he  was  as  sure  to  hear  a 
"  testimony"  against  both,  as  Scott's  "  Cuddie  Headrig" 
from  his  mither^  against  the  popinjay. 

Besides,  there  is  good  reason  to  suppose  that  Bunyan, 
if  not  invited  into  the  houses  of  the  Puritans,  was  allowed 
to  be  present  in  more  than  one  or  two  of  them,  when  they 
read  to  their  families  books  of  "  christian  piety."  Accord- 
ingly, he  says,  "  It  was  a  prison  to  me,  when  I  have  seen 
some  read  these  books.  In  these  days,  the  thoughts  of 
religion  were  very  grievous  to  me.  I  could  neither 
endure  it  myself,  nor  that  any  other  should." 

These  hints  throw  some  light  upon  the  readiness  with 
which  his  conscience  applied  to  himself  "  the  terrors  of  the 
Lord  :"  but  they  leave  to  the  Bible  and  his  incipient 
genius,  all  the  solemn  majesty  of  his  young  dreams. 
These,  like  his  Pilgrim,  were  his  own  creations :  for, 
although  we  may  have  dreamt  of  the  Day  of  Judgment, 
much  in  the  same  form  as  Bunyan,  we  only  dreamt  his 
dream  over  again.  We  had  his  example  to  help  our 
duller  imaginations :  whereas  the  tinker  boy  had  read 
nothing  but  his  Bible.  No  Glorious  Dreamer  had  sent 
him.  to  bed,  full  of  solemn  thoughts,  or  dazzled  with  glar- 
ing visions.  He  himself  knew,  and  never  forgot,  that 
fact ;  and  hence  he  ascribed  his  night  visions  to  God 
alone: — "I  have    with   soberness  considered,"  he    says. 


LIFE    OF    I3UNYAN.  9 

"  that  the   Lord,  even   in   my  childhood,    did   scare   and 
afFrighten  me  with  fearful  dreams." 

Bunyan's  dreams,  then,  were  not  always  unsoftened  in 
their  issue.  Ivimey  has  quoted  one,  to  this  effect :  "  Once  he 
dreamed  that  he  was  just  dropping-  into  the  flames  amongst 
the  damned,  when  a  person  in  white  raiment  suddenly 
plucked  him  as  a  brand  out  of  the  fire."  This  is  the 
creation  of  his  own  mind,  from  the  visions  of  Zechariah 
and  John :  and  as  "  a  dream  cometh  of  a  multitude  of 
business,"  a  part  of  his  business  on  that  day  must  have 
been  the  perusal  of  part  of  tivo  books  of  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures. We  know  also  where  he  must  have  read  on  the 
morning  of  the  day,  when  he  dreamt  "  that  the  end  of 
the  world  and  the  day  of  judgment  were  arrived ;  and 
thought  that  the  earth  quaked,  and  opened  her  mouth  to 
receive  him." — Ivimey* s  Life.  Indeed,  his  own  versions  of 
such  dreams  (as  we  shall  see)  all  manifest  an  extensive 
familiarity  with  the  Scriptures,  and  a  keen  perception,  yea, 
vivid  realization,  of  whatever  is  most  appalling  or  mag- 
nificent in  eternal  things.  He  dreamt  like  a  prophet, 
whilst  he  was  only  a  boy. 

The  finest  illustration  of  this,  Bunyan  put  into  the  lips 
of  the  man  in  the  "  chamber,"  at  the  Interpreter's  house. 
That  dream  may,  indeed,  be  a  compound  of  mayiy  of  his 
own ;  but  it  is  all  his  own^  and  evidently  selected  from 
distinct  recollections  of  his  own  midnight  visions  in  youth  : 
it  belongs,  therefore,  to  his  life,  as  much  as  to  his  alle- 
gory ;  and  is  the  first  grand  disclosure  of  the  real  power 
of  both  his  mind  and  conscience,  in  boyhood.  He  himself 
did  not  write  it  for  this  purpose,  nor  think,  perhaps,  that 
it  would  ever  reveal  the  original  elements  of  his  genius. 
That,  however,  is  no  reason  why  we  should  not  view  it  in 
that  light.  Modesty  as  much  binds  us  to  say,  that  the  boy 
Bunyan  dreamt,  as  it  bound  him  to  say,  "  the  man  rising 
out  of  bed,  in  a  chamber,"  said,  "  This  night,  as  I  was  in 
my    sleep,    I    dreamed,    and    behold,    the    heavens    grew 


10 


LIFE    OF    BUN Y AN. 


exceeding  black  ;  also  it  thundered  and  lig-htened  in  such 
fearful  wise,  that  it  put  me  in  an  agony.  So  I  looked  up 
in  my  dream,  and  saw  the  clouds  rack  at  an  unusual  rate : 
upon  which  I  heard  a  great  sound  of  a  trumpet,  and  saw 
also  a  man  sit  upon  a  cloud,  attended  with  thousands  of 
heaven.  They  were  all  in  flaming  fire  ;  also  the  heavens 
were  in  a  burning  flame.  I  heard  then  a  voice  saying, 
*  Arise,  ye  dead,  and  come  to  judgment.'  And  with  that, 
the  rocks  rent,  the  graves  opened,  and  the  dead  that  were 
therein  came  forth.  Some  of  them  were  exceeding  glad, 
and  looked  upward  ;  and  some  sought  to  hide  themselves 
under  the  mountains. 

"  Then  I  saw  the  man  that  sat  on  the  cloud,  open  the 
book,  and  bid  the  world  draw  near.  Yet  there  was,  by 
reason  of  the  fierce  flame  which  issued  out,  and  came 
before  him,  a  convenient  distance  betwixt  him  and  them, 
as  betwixt  the  judge  and  the  prisoners  at  the  bar.  I  heard 
it  also  proclaimed  to  them  that  attended  on  the  man  that 
sat  on  the  cloud,  '  Gather  together  the  tares,  the  chaff, 
and  the  stubble,  and  cast  them  into  the  burning  lake.' 
And  with  that,  the  bottomless  pit  opened,  just  whereabout 
I  stood ;  out  of  the  mouth  of  which  there  came,  in  an 
abundant  manner,  smoke  and  coals  of  fire,  with  hideous 
noises. 

"  It  was  also  said  to  the  same  persons,  '  Gather  my 
tvheat  into  the  garner  !*  And  with  that,  I  saw^  many 
catched  up  and  carried  away  in  the  clouds ;  but  I  was  left 
behind  !  I  also  sought  to  hide  myself,  but  I  could  not  ; 
for  the  man  upon  the  cloud  still  kept  his  eye  upon  me. 
My  sins  also  came  into  my  mind,  and  my  conscience  did 
accuse  me  on  every  side  ;  for,  as  I  thought,  the  Judge  had 
always  his  eye  upon  me,  showing  indignation  in  his  coun- 
tenance. But  what  affrighted  me  most  was,  that  the  angels 
gathered  up  several,  and  left  me  behind :  also,  the  pit  of 
hell  opened  her  mouth  just  where  I  stood." — Pilgrim. 

Splendid  as  this  painting  is,  there  is  not  a  feature  of  it. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  11 

which  was  not  shadowed  out  in  his  own  first  dreams.  It 
only  embodied  fully,  and  emblazons  a  little,  what  disturbed 
the  sleep  of  the  lisping  blasphemer  of  Elstow,  when  neither 
the  fatigue  nor  the  excitement  of  daring-  sports  could  put 
down  the  energies  of  his  mind  or  conscience. 

These  energies,  however,  are  not  seen  in  all  their  early 
strength,  in  the  current  versions  of  his  young  dreams.  I 
therefore  subjoin  another  version  of  them,  from  the  sketch 
of  his  Life,  in  the  British  Museum  : — ■ 

"  He  has  often,  since  his  conversion,  confest  with  horror 
and  detestation  of  himself,  that  when  he  was  but  a  child, 
or  at  least  a  stripling  youth,  he  had  but  few  equals  for 
lying,  swearing,  and  blaspheming  God's  holy  name,  which 
became  then  to  him  as  a  second  nature  ;  not  considering 
that  he  must  die,  and  one  day  give  an  account  before  the 
dread  tribunal  of  the  God  of  all  the  earth  ;  living,  as  it 
were,  without  God  in  the  world  ;  the  thoughts  of  which, 
when,  by  the  light  of  divine  grace,  he  came  to  understand 
his  dangerous  condition,  drew  many  showers  of  tears  from 
his  sorrowful  eyes,  and  sighs  from  his  groaning  heart. 

"  The  first  thing  that  sensibly  touched  him  in  this  his 
rmregenerate  state,  were  fearful  dreams,  and  visions  of  the 
night,  which  often  made  him  cry  out  in  his  sleep,  and  alarm 
the  house,  as  if  somebody  had  been  about  to  murder  him  ; 
and  being  waked,  he  would  start,  and  stare  about  him  with 
such  a  wildness,  as  if  some  real  apparition  had  yet  remained ; 
and  generally  these  dreams  were  about  evil  spirits,  in  mon- 
strous shapes  and  forms,  that  presented  themselves  to  him 
in  threatening  postures,  as  if  they  would  have  taken  him 
away,  or  torn  him  in  pieces :  at  some  times  they  seemed  to 
belch  flame,  at  other  times  a  contagious  smoke,  with  hor- 
rible noises  and  roaring. 

"  This  continued  for  some  time,  and  there  came  others 
somewhat  of  another  nature,  seemingly  more  pleasing  and 
alluring  to  entice  those  sweet  darling  sins  that  so  much 
bewitch   the  world,  and    carry  men   away  to   the   pit   of 


12  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

destruction,  as  carnal  concupiscential  desires,  thn-st  after 
rich  and  unlawful  gain,  vain-glory,  and  pomp,  with  many- 
others  of  the  same  black  stamp  ;  yet,  when  he  began  some- 
what seriously  to  consider,  even  these  wrought  darkness 
and  confusion  in  his  soul,  and  took  him  with  unaccountable 
melancholy.  Once  he  dreamt  he  saw  the  face  of  the  hea- 
vens, as  it  were,  all  on  fire,  the  firmament  crackling  and 
shivering  as  with  the  noise  of  mighty  thunders,  and  an 
archangel  flew  in  the  midst  of  heaven  sounding  a  trumpet, 
and  a  glorious  throne  was  seated  in  the  east,  whereon  sat 
one  in  brightness  like  the  morning  star ;  upon  which  he, 
thinking  it  was  the  end  of  the  world,  fell  upon  his  knees, 
and,  with  uplifted  hands  towards  heaven,  cried,  '  O  Lord 
God,  have  mercy  upon  me !  what  shall  I  do !  the  day  of 
judgment  is  come,  and  I  am  not  prepared !'  when  imme- 
diately he  heard  a  voice  behind  him  exceedingly  loud,  say- 
ing, *  Repent ;'  and  upon  this  he  awoke,  and  found  it  but 
a  dream.  Yet,  as  he  said,  upon  this  he  grew  more  serious, 
and  it  remained  in  his  mind  a  considerable  time. 

"  At  another  time  he  dreamed  that  he  was  in  a  pleasant 
place,  jovial  and  rioting,  banqueting  and  feasting  his 
senses,  when  immediately  a  mighty  earthquake  rent  the 
earth,  and  made  a  wide  gap,  out  of  which  came  bloody 
flames,  and  the  figures  of  men  tossed  up  in  globes  of  fire, 
and  falling  down  again  with  horrible  cries,  shrieks,  and 
execrations,  whilst  some  devils  that  were  mingled  with 
them  laughed  aloud  at  their  torments ;  and  whilst  he  stood 
trembling  at  this  sight,  he  thought  the  earth  sunk  under 
him,  and  a  circle  of  flame  inclosed  him  ;  but  when  he  fancied 
he  was  just  at  the  point  to  perish,  one  in  white  shining 
raiment  descended  and  plucked  him  out  of  that  dreadful 
place,  whilst  the  devils  cried  after  him  to  leave  him  with 
them,  to  take  the  just  punishment  his  sins  had  deserved  ; 
yet  he  escaped  the  danger,  and  leaped  for  joy  when  he 
awoke  and  found  it  but  a  dream.  Many  others,  some- 
what to  the    same   purpose,    I    might    mention,  as  he   at 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  13 

sundry  times  related  them  ;  but,  not  to  be  tedious,  these  for 
a  taste  may  suffice." 

Under  such  circumstances,  and  in  spite  of  such  feelings, 
Bunyan  grew  up  into  a  reckless  lad  ;  for,  although  wick- 
edness of  any  kind  in  professors  of  religion  would  shock 
him  even  then,  he  himself  was  not  afraid  of  sin  :  indeed, 
he  feared  nothing,  when  he  could  forget  his  dreams. 
He  mentions  one  remarkable  instance  of  fool-hardiness. 
"Being  in  the  fields,"  he  says,  "with  one  of  my  com- 
panions, it  chanced  that  an  adder  passed  over  the  highway  : 
so  I,  having  a  stick  in  my  hand,  struck  her  over  the  back  ; 
and  having  stunned  her,  I  forced  open  her  mouth  with  my 
stick,  and  plucked  her  tongue  out  with  my  fingers  ;  by 
which  act,  had  not  God  been  merciful  to  me,  I  might,  by 
my  desperateness,  have  brought  myself  to  my  end."  Dr. 
Southey  says,  "  If  this  were  indeed  an  adder,  and  not  a 
harmless  snake,  his  escape  from  the  fangs  was  more  re- 
markable than  he  himself  was  aware  of."  No  one,  however, 
was  more  likely  to  know  an  adder  from  a  snake  than 
Bunyan  ;  for  no  one  was  more  amongst  the  hedges  and 
bosky  banks :  and  although  he  was  never,  perhaps,  fully 
aware  of  all  the  venom  of  an  adder's  fangs,  he  has  certainly 
made  his  escape  appear  as  remarkable  as  if  it  had  been  a 
miracle ;  for,  what  more  could  any  one  say  of  it  than  he 
did? 


14  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


CHAPTER  11. 


BUNYAN    IN    THE    ARMY. 


That   a  young  man  of  Bunyan's  roistering*  habits    and 
reckless  spirit  should  have  enlisted  for  a  soldier,  is  only 
what  might  be  expected ;  but  it  is  somewhat  strange  (if 
true)  that  he  should  have  preferred  the  Parliamentary  to 
the  Royal  army.     True  ;  he  seems  never  to  have  been  a 
drunkard  ;  and  it  is  certain  he  never  was  licentious ;  but 
still,  as  he  himself  could  not  only  *'  sin  with  delight  and 
ease  "  in  his  own  way,  but  also  take  "  pleasure  in  the  vile- 
ness  of  his  companions,"  the  Royalists  were  most  suited  to 
his  moral  tastes.     His  blasphemy  and  blackguardism  would 
have  pleased  them,  and  their  profligacy  would  not  have 
oiFended  him.      He  joined,  however,   the  Parliamentary 
troops  ;    and,  whatever   cant  or    hypocrisy,   vulgarity   or 
vice,  was  prevalent  amongst  them,  it  was  not  of  Bunyan's 
kind,  nor   of  the  cavalier  order  and  style.     There  were 
both  sleek  and  sly  villains  in  Cromwell's  army ;  and  some 
of  them  men   of  no  mean  rank.     Bunyan  says,  that  he 
himself  overheard  one  of  them  tempting  virtue  "  in  Oliver's 
days,"  by  proposing  to  ascribe   the  fruit   of  shame   to  a 
miracle.     "  I  heard  him  say  this,  and  it  greatly  afflicted 
me.     I  had  a  mind  to  have  accused  him  before  some  magis- 
trate ;  but  he  was  a  great  man,  and  I  was  poor,  so  I  let  it 
alone  ;  but  it  troubled  me  very  much." — Badmaris  Life. 
This  revolting  at  crime,  although  an  anomaly  in  Bun- 
yan's character,  was  not  a  new  thing  with  him,  when  the 
criminal  professed  godliness.     Years  before  he  entered  the 


LIFE    OF    BUN  VAN.  15 

army,  such  inconsistencies  shocked  him.  "  I  well  remem- 
ber/' he  says,  "  that  even  when  I  could  take  pleasure  in 
the  vileness  of  my  companions,  wicked  things  by  those 
who  professed  goodness,  would  make  my  spirit  tremble. 
As  once,  above  all  the  rest,  when  I  was  at  the  height  of 
my  vanity,  yet  hearing  one  swear  that  was  reckoned  godly, 
it  had  so  great  a  stroke  upon  my  spirit,  that  it  made  my 
heart  ache." 

He  was  not,  of  course,  often  shocked  by  swearing  whilst 
amongst  the  Roundheads,  whatever  other  vices  he  may  have 
detected  in  some  of  them  beneath  the  mask  of  religion. 
Hume  himself  being  the  judge,  the  character  of  the  Par- 
liamentary army  was  very  high  when  Bunyan  joined  it  in 
1645.     "The  private  soldiers,"  Hume  says,  "employed 
their  vacant  hours  in  prayer,  in  perusing  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures,  in  ghostly  conferences,   where  they  compared  the 
progress  of  their  souls  in  grace,  and  mutually  stimulated 
each  other  to  further  advances  in  the  great  work  of  their 
salvation.     When  they  were  marching  to  battle,  the  whole 
field   resounded,  as  well  with  psalms  and  spiritual   songs 
adapted  to   the  occasion,  as  with  instruments  of  military 
music  ;  and  every  man  endeavoured  to  drown  the  sense 
"^of  present  danger,  in  the  prospect  of  that  crown  of  glory 
which  was  set  before   him.     In  so  holy  a  cause,  wounds 
were  esteemed  meritorious  ;  death,  martyrdom ;  and  the 
hurry   and   dangers  of  action,  instead  of  banishing  their 
pious  visions,  rather  strove  to  impress  their  minds  more 
strongly  with  them." — Hume^s  England^  vol.  vii. 

Such,  in  general,  were  the  men  with  whom  Bunyan 
associated,  when  he  became  a  soldier.  It  was  well  for  him. 
Had  he  joined  the  ranks  commanded  by  Rupert,  he  might 
have  become  as  vile  as  "  dissolute  Wilmot,"  or  "  licentious 
Goring,"  as  Hume  styles  them.  They  are  well  designated. 
Such  leaders  would  not  have  been  allowed  to  follow 
Cromwell. 

It  is  well  known  that   Cromwell's   own  regiment  was 


16  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

composed  of  select  men,  "  most  of  them  freeholders,  or 
freeholders'  sons,  who,  upon  matter  of  conscience,  engaged 
in  the  quarrel,"  under  him.  It  is  not  so  well  known, 
however,  that  he  endeavoured  to  assimilate  other  regiments 
to  his  own,  by  means  of  Hampden  especially.  The  fol- 
lowing account  of  this  will  be  readily  recognised  as  his 
own.  The  speech  was  addressed  to  the  Parliament,  when 
they  conferred  with  him  upon  their  proposal,  that  he  should 
assume  the  title  of  king :  "  From  my  first  being  captain  of 
a  troop  of  horse,  I  did  labour  as  well  as  I  could  to  discharge 
my  trust ;  and  God  blessed  me  as  it  pleased  him.  I  had 
a  very  worthy  friend  then — Mr.  Hampden ;  and  he  was  a 
very  noble  person  ;  and  I  know  his  memory  is  very  grateful 
to  all.  At  my  first  going  out  into  that  engagement,  I  saw 
our  men  were  beaten  on  every  hand — I  did,  indeed  ;  and 
desired  him  that  he  would  make  some  additions  to  my 
Lord  Essex's  army,  of  some  new  regiments.  And  I  told 
him,  it  would  be  serviceable  to  him,  in  bringing  such  men 
in  as  I  thought  had  a  spirit  that  would  do  something  in 
the  work.  *  Your  troops,'  said  I,  '  are  most  of  them  old 
decayed  serving  men,  and  tapsters,  and  such  kind  of  fel- 
lows :  and  their  troops  are  gentlemen's  sons,  younger 
sons,  and  persons  of  quality.  And  do  you  think  that  the 
spirit  of  such  base  and  mean  fellows  will  ever  be  able  to 
encounter  gentlemen  that  have  honour,  and  courage,  and 
resolution  in  them  ?  You  must  get  men  of  a  spirit ;  and, 
take  it  not  ill  what  I  say,  of  a  spirit  that  is  likely  to  go  on 
as  far  as  gentlemen  will  go  :  or  else,  I  am  sure,  you  will 
be  beaten  still.'     I  told  him  so. 

"  He  was  a  wise  and  worthy  person,  and  he  did  think 
that  I  talked  a  good  notion,  but  an  unpracticable  one.  I 
told  him,  I  could  do  somewhat  in  it ;  and  I  raised  such 
men  as  had  the  fear  of  God  in  them,  and  some  conscience 
of  what  they  did.  And  from  that  day  forth,  they  were 
never  beaten ;  but  whenever  they  engaged  the  enemy,  they 
beat  continuallv." — Peck's  Cromwell. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  17 

Thus  Sprat,  of  Oxon,  had  no  occasion  to  unsay  as  a 
bishop  what  he  sang  whilst  a  poet :  — 

"  Others,  by  thee,  great  things  did  do ; 
Triumph'dst  thyself,  and  madest  them  triumph  too." 

Pindaric  Ode.  ' 

This  is  enough  for  my  purpose,  concerning  both  Crom- 
well and  the  Parliamentary  army.  What  they  were  in 
relation  to  law  or  policy  belongs  to  the  historian.  I  have, 
of  course,  my  own  opinion ;  and,  as  a  monarchical  man,  I 
devoutly  wish  that  kings  would  cultivate  Cromwell's  man- 
liness, without  his  cant ;  and  the  army  the  religious  habits 
of  his  soldiers,  without  their  vagaries.  I  certainly  think 
him  a  usurper ;  but  I  quite  agree  with  Locke,  in  thinking 
him,  "  a  mighty  prince  ;  greater  far "  than  "  Julius  or 
Augustus."  He  so  ruled  in  peace,  what  he  gained  in  war, 
that  his  character  turned  Locke  into  a  poet  for  the  moment. 
There  is  understanding ^  as  well  as  imagination,  in  the 
Metaphysician's  sonnet  to  Cromwell : — 

"  You  sure  from  heaven  a  finished  hero  fell. 
Who  thus  alone  two  pagan  gods  excel." 

Banks   Critical  Rev.  of  CromiveU's  Life. 

That  Bunyan  was  in  the  Parliamentary,  not  the  Royal 
army,  is  not  to  be  learned  from  himself,  so  far  as  I  know : 
and  it  is  not  proved  by  those  who  say  that  he  was  at  the 
siege  of  Leicester,  in  1645,  except  to  those  who  know 
more  than  Hume  tells.  Bunyan  himself  says,  "  that  he 
was  drawn  out  to  go  to  a  place  to  besiege  it ;"  but  he  does 
not  name  the  place.  Now  the  only  siege  of  Leicester 
described  by  Hume,  in  1645,  was  by  the  King's  troops. 

That  Bunyan  was  in  the  service  of  the  Parliament  is, 
however,  more  than  probable.  Bedfordshire  was  one  of 
the  first  counties  to  declare  against  the  King.  Its  Annalist 
says,  the  King  had  "no  visible  party,  or  fixed  quarters" 
there.  It  was,  however,  in  Bedford  that  Bunyan  enlisted  : 
besides,  the  author  of  the  Sketch  of  his  Life  (preserved  in 
the  British  Museum),  who  evidently  knew  him  personally, 


18  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

and  had  had  many  interviews  with  him,  says  expressly,  "  He 
often  acknowledged,  with  uplifted  hands  and  eyes,  a  won- 
derful providence ;  for,  in  June  1645,  being  at  the  siege 
of  Leicester,  he  was  called  out  to  be  one  who  should  make 
a  violent  attack  on  the  town,  (then)  vigorously  defended 
defended  by  the  King's  forces  against  the  Parliamentarians." 
This  is  decisive ;  and  the  fact  is  worth  proving,  because  it 
will  go  far  to  prove  also,  that  Bunyan  was  in  the  battle  of 
Naseby ;  and  there,  as  well  as  at  the  second  siege  of 
Leicester,  caught  some  of  those  military  tactics  which 
enabled  him,  afterwards,  to  write  his  "  Holy  War."  This 
is  my  chief  reason  for  going  into  the  question. 

Now,  the  siege  of  Leicester,  at  which  Bunyan  was 
present,  although  it  did  not  exactly  begin  on  the  very  day 
after  the  battle  of  Naseby,  was  prepared  for  on  that  day, 
although  it  was  the  Sabbath-day.  Rushworth  says,  that 
Fairfax  marched  on  Sunday  to  Leicester,  with  all  his  army, 
to  besiege  it.  Naseby  was  fought  on  the  Saturday  :  the 
besiegers  of  the  town  were,  therefore,  the  conquerors  from 
that  field.  It  is  thus  self-evident,  that  Bunyan  was  in  the 
field  ;  for  only  the  army  of  that  day  was  at  the  siege,  and 
he  was  one  of  the  besiegers.  He  saw,  therefore,  on  that 
day,  Ireton  maintaining  his  post  against  the  fiery  Rupert, 
even  after  his  thigh  was  run  through  with  a  pike ;  and 
Skijypon  refusing  to  quit  the  field,  at  the  desire  of  Fairfax, 
although  dangerously  wounded  ;  and  Cromwell  overwhelm- 
ing Langdale,  and  routing  the  King. 

We  shall  see,  by  and  by,  that  he  must  have  been  an 
attentive  observer  of  both  the  men  and  the  manoeuvres  of 
this  great  field-day.  Indeed,  he  seems  to  have  been  a 
better  observer  of  others  than  an  expert  soldier  himself. 
This  does  not  appear  from  his  own  account  ;  but  his  Jirst 
biographer  says  expressly,  "  He  appearing  to  the  officer 
to  be  somewhat  awkward  in  handling  his  arms,  another 
man  voluntarily  thrust  himself  into  his  place." — Life, 
from  the  Museum  Sketch, 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  19 

I  mention  this  before  giving  his  own  account  of  the 
matter,  because  that  is  too  serious  to  be  interrupted  by 
any  explanation.  He  says,  with  great  emotion,  "  This, 
also,  I  have  taken  notice  of  with  thanksgiving  : — when  I 
was  a  soldier,  I,  with  others,  were  drawn  out  to  go  to 
such  a  place  to  besiege  it ;  but  when  I  was  just  ready  to 
go,  one  of  the  company  desired  to  go  in  my  room  :  to 
which,  when  I  had  consented,  he  took  my  place  ;  and 
coming  to  the  siege,  as  he  stood  sentinel,  he  was  shot  in 
the  head,  and  died.  Here  were  judgment  and  mercy  ;  but 
neither  of  them  did  awaken  my  soul  to  righteousness ; 
wherefore  I  sinned  still,  and  grew  more  and  more  rebel- 
lious against  God,  and  careless  of  my  own  salvation." 

Bunyan's  reason  for  not  specifying  the  side  on  which  he 
fought,  nor  the  place  of  this  escape,  is  obvious.  He  was 
a  prisoner  for  nonconformity  when  he  wrote  his  Life  ;  and 
as  such,  had  but  too  many  enemies,  without  the  addition 
of  political  foes.  His  Book  also  was  dedicated  to  his  flock 
and  friends,  who  were  persecuted  for  conscience'  sake  at 
the  time ;  and  he  had  too  much  regard  for  them,  to  enable 
political  or  ecclesiastical  libellers  to  twit  them  with  the 
charge  of  adhering  to  an  old  Republican.  Besides,  he 
was  contemplating  at  this  time  his  "  Holy  War  ;"  and,  that 
the  Leaders  in  that  Allegory  might  not  be  identified  with 
the  Generals  on  either  side  in  the  civil  wars,  he  wisely  gave 
no  clue  to  the  sources  of  his  knowledge.  There  was  much 
wisdom  in  this  silence  ;  as  we  shall  see,  when  that  Allegory 
comes  to  be  analyzed.  The  only  thing  necessary  here  is, 
to  remember  his  extreme  youth  w^hen  he  became  a  soldier, 
and  the  short  period  of  his  continuance  in  the  army.  He 
could  hardly  be  seventeen  years  of  age  when  he  enlisted, 
and  he  left  before  he  was  nineteen.  Now,  although  there 
was  much  to  be  seen  in  a  short  time,  where  Cromwell  and 
Fairfax  led  the  way,  it  required  no  ordinary  eyes  to  trace 
their  movements,  and  appreciate  their  tactics.  Young 
Bun}'an  did  both,  and  remembered  them  all  through  life. 


20  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

although  he  had  no  motive  whilst  observing  them,  but 
the  gratification  of  his  own  curiosity.  Neither  the  battle 
nor  the  siege  suggested  to  him  a  single  thought,  at  the 
time,  beyond  their  political  bearings,  or  their  military 
character  ;  but  both  came  back  upon  him  in  all  their  ^^cir- 
cumstance" as  well  as  "  pomp,"  when  he  became  "  the 
prisoner  of  the  Lord."     Then  he  sang : — 

"  'Tis  strange  to  me,  that  they  that  love  to  tell 
Things  done  of  old,  yea,  and  that  do  excel 
Their  equals  in  Histriology, 
Speak  not  of  Mansoul's  wars ;  but  let  them  lie" 
Dead,  like  old  fables,  or  such  worthless  things, 
That  to  the  Reader  no  advantage  brings ; 
When  men  (let  them  make  what  they  will  their  own) 
Till  they  know  tJds,  are  to  themselves  unknown. — 
I  saw  the  Prince's  armed  men  come  down 
By  troops,  by  thousands,  to  besiege  the  tOAvn ; 
I  saw  the  Captains ;  heard  the  Trumpets  sound ; 
And  how  His  forces  covered  all  the  ground. 
Yea,  how  they  set  themselves  in  battle  'ray, 
I  shall  remember  to  my  dying  day. 
I  saw  the  Colours  waving  in  the  wind ; 
I  saw  the  Mounts  cast  up  against  the  town. 
And  how  the  Slings  were  placed  to  beat  it  down ; 
I  heard  the  Stones  fly  whizzing  by  my  ears, 
(What's  longer  kept  in  mind,  than  got  in  fears  ?) 
I  heard  them  fall,  and  saw  what  work  they  made, 
And  how  old  Mars  did  cover  with  his  shade." 

Holy  War. 


LIFE  OF  SUNYAN.  21 


CHAPTER  III. 


BUNYAN  S    MARRIAGE. 


His  moral  reformation,  such  as  it  was  at  first,  beg-an  with 
his  marriage.  This  interesting-  fact  has  been  too  baldly 
told  hitherto.  There  was  more  information  to  be  obtained 
than  the  bare  fact,  that  "  his  career  of  vice  received  a 
considerable  check,  in  consequence  of  his  marriage." — 
Scott's  Life. 

Bad  as  Bunyan  was,  he  had  still  some  friends  at  Elstow, 
or  in  Bedford.  This  appears  from  the  sketch  of  his  Life 
in  the  British  Museum.  "  The  few  friends  he  had,  thought 
that  changing  his  condition  to  the  married  state  might 
reform  him,  and  therefore  urged  him  to  it  as  a  seasonable 
and  comfortable  advantage.  But  the  difficult  thing  was, 
that  his  poverty,  and  irregular  course  of  life,  made  it  very 
difficult  for  him  to  get  a  wife  suitable  to  his  inclination  : 
and  because  none  of  the  rich  would  yield  to  his  solicita- 
tions, he  found  himself  constrained  to  marry  one  without 
any  fortune. 

"  She  was  very  virtuous,  loving,  and  conformably  obe- 
dient and  obliging ;  having  been  born  of  good,  honest, 
godly  parents,  who  had  instructed  her,  as  well  as  they  were 
able,  in  the  ways  of  truth  and  saving  knowledge.  Her 
husband  going  on  at  the  old  rate,  she  endeavoured  to  make 
him  see  his  wicked  ways,  and  laid  before  his  eyes  the  vanity 
of  sin,  and  the  danger  that  attended  its  wages — being  no  less 
than  death,  and  that  not  temporal,  but  eternal  death  :  and 
having  two  or  three  books  left  her,  which,  it  seems,  was  all. 


22  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

or  the  greatest  part  of  her  dowry,  she  frequently  enticed 
him  to  read  in  them,  and  apply  the  use  of  them  to  the 
reforming-  his  manners  and  saving  his  soul." — P.  1 5. 

This,  as  we  shall  see,  may  be  safely  taken  for  fact, 
although  the  author,  in  the  next  page,  misstates  the  time 
of  Bunyan's  enlistment,  which  he  places  after  the  marriage. 
He  mistakes,  however,  more  than  dates.  He  assigns,  as 
Bunyan's  reason  for  enlisting,  the  want  of  work  to  "  sup- 
port himself  and  his  small  family  "  during  "  the  unnatural 
civil  wars."  He  adds,  however,  his  own  refutation,  although 
unawares ;  for  he  places  him  at  the  siege  of  Leicester  in 
1645  ;  and  then,  we  know,  he  was  only  seventeen  years  of 
age.  Besides,  he  himself  says  expressly,  "  Presently  after 
this,  I  changed  my  condition  into  a  married  state."  He 
does  not  mean,  however,  presently  after  the  siege ;  but 
after  quitting  the  army,  which  he  seems  to  have  done 
soon.  Dr.  Southey  says,  that  Bunyan  was  probably  not 
nineteen  when  he  married.  This  conclusion  is  just, 
although  not  warranted  by  the  premises  it  is  drawn  from. 
"  He  married  presently  after  his  substitute  had  been  killed 
at  the  siege  of  Leicester/'  the  Doctor  says.  The  conclu- 
sion from  this  would  be,  "  probably,  therefore,  when  he 
was  only  seventeen ;"  for  he  was  born  in  1628,  and  the 
siege  occurred  June  17th,  1645. 

But,  whatever  the  interval  was,  between  his  discharge 
and  his  marriage,  it  was  during  that  interval  he  made  the 
friends  who  planned  and  urged  his  marriage.  And  on  his 
return  from  the  army,  Bunyan  was  likeli/  to  gain  friends, 
although  he  returned  home  unimproved  in  character.  He 
had  seen  the  wonders  of  Naseby,  and  the  recapture  of 
Leicester  ;  and,  if  he  followed  Fairfax  to  Taunton,  he 
had  encamped  at  Stonehenge  by  the  way,  and  thus  seen 
the  mysterious  temple  of  Druidism,  {IlusliwortK) — scenes 
which  would  not  be  lost  upon  him.  His  bold  and  vivid 
imagination  was  sure  to  be  fired  by  them,  and  his  fluency 
enabled  him  to  depict  them.     We  have  seen  that  he  both 


LIFE    OV    BUNYAN. 


23 


observed  well  when  in  the  army,  and  remembered  well 
afterwards.  It  is,  therefore,  no  conjecture,  that  the  soldier 
of  even  this  single  campaign  would  be  welcome  at  Bedford. 
The  royal  cause  had  few  friends  there :  the  parliamentary 
had  many.  Thus  Bunyan  would  soon  be  in  request,  even 
amongst  men  who  had  formerly  shunned  his  company. 
Curiosity,  at  a  time  of  high  excitement,  can  easily  invent 
for  conscience  an  excuse  for  getting  information  from  any 
quarter,  on  a  favourite  subject. 

Besides,  Bunyan's  sipial  escape  at  the  siege  would  draw 
upon  him  the  special  notice  of  godly  men  then.  They 
were  close  students  of  Providence,  and  firm  believers  in 
that  sovereignty  of  grace  which  occasionally  arrests  some 
of  the  most  reckless.  It  is,  therefore,  highly  probable, 
that  when  the  young  Blasphemer  returned  unhurt,  some 
of  the  aged  Believers  in  Bedford  would  feel  deeply  inter- 
ested in  him,  under  the  hope  that  God  had  some  wise  and 
gracious  end  in  view,  for  thus  wonderfully  sparing  such  a 
rebel.  And  thus,  between  what  God  had  done  for  him, 
and  what  Bunyan  had  seen  and  could  say  of  the  campaign, 
a  new  class  of  men  were  very  likely  to  seek  his  company, 
when  he  resumed  his  craft. 

It  is  on  these  grounds,  I  feel  warranted  to  adopt  the 
oldest  version  of  the  origin  of  Bunyan's  marriage  :  "  the 
few  friends  he  had,  thought  that  changing  to  the  married 
state  might  re/orm  him  ;  and  therefore  urged  him  to  it  as 
a  seasonable  advantage."  If  this  reasoning  be  valid,  he 
was  not,  even  in  his  worst  state,  a  cruel  or  unamiable  man. 
He  was  boisterous,  and  perhaps  turbulent ;  but  not  harsh, 
nor  vindictive.  Had  he  been  so,  no  decent  woman  could 
have  been  tempted  to  marry  him  ;  for  he  had  literally 
nothing  in  the  world  but  the  tools  of  his  craft.  In  like 
manner,  had  he  been  a  sensualist,  his  friends  could  not 
have  induced  "  a  very  virtuous  woman,  born  of  good, 
honest,  godly  parents,"  to  have  him.  There  must,  there- 
fore, notwithstanding  all  his  faults,  have  been  something 


24  LIFE    OF    BUN  VAN. 

loveahle  about  him.  The  very  fact,  that  they  had  not  so 
much  between  them  "  as  a  dish  or  a  spoon,"  proves  that 
he  must  have  had  some  endearing-  quality.  It  proves,  too, 
I  readily  grant,  that  she  had  but  little  prudence,  even  if 
she  married  him  for  the  express  purpose  of  mending  him. 

That  this  was  her  purpose,  is  evident.  Bunyan  himself 
says,  "  My  mercy  was,  to  light  upon  a  wife  whose  father 
was  counted  godly.  She  would  be  often  telling  of  me 
what  a  godly  man  her  father  was,  and  how  he  would  correct 
and  reprove  vice,  both  in  his  house  and  among  his  neigh- 
bours ;  and  what  a  strict  and  holy  life  he  lived  in  his  days, 
both  in  words  and  deeds." 

Bunyan's  second  wife  was  certainly  a  heroine,  well  de- 
serving, as  we  shall  see,  a  comparison  with  Lady  Russel, 
or  with  the  wife  of  Grotius  :  but  it  required  as  much,  if  not 
more  heroism,  although  of  another  kind,  to  attempt  the 
conversion  of  the  Tinker,  as  to  plead  the  cause  of  the 
Prisoner.  And  this  was  done  so  wisely,  by  showing  him 
what  he  should  be,  in  vivid  pictures  of  what  her  father  had 
been,  that  I  must,  in  spite  of  the  lack  of  both  "  dish  and 
spoon  "  betwixt  them,  withdraw  my  charge  of  imprudence 
from  her  memory.  Dr.  Southey  says,  "  There  was  no 
imprudence  in  this  early  marriage  :"  and  I  will  believe  him, 
although  not  for  the  first  reason  he  assigns,  that  "  Bunyan 
had  a  trade  that  he  could  trust ;"  but  for  the  second  (put- 
ting my  own  sense  upon  the  words),  that  "  she  had  been 
trained  up  in  the  way  she  should  go."  She  went  the  right 
way  to  work,  in  trying  to  reform  her  husband.  An  impru- 
dent woman  would  have  reproved  him ;  but  Mrs.  Bunyan 
led  him  to  realize  how  her  father  would  have  called  him 
over  the  coals,  had  he  been  alive.  Bunyan  was  just  the 
man  to  realize  this ;  and  it  was  only  what  he  would  have 
expected  from  a  Puritan.  It  was  not,  however,  what  he 
would  have  brooked  at  that  time  from  his  wife.  She  had  both 
the  good  sense,  and  the  good  taste,  to  perceive  this  ;  and, 
therefore,  instead  of  upbraiding  her  husband,  praised  her 


LIFE  OF  BUNYAN.  25 

father,  until  Bunyan  saw,  as  in  a  glass,  the  contrast  between 
them.  I  will  not  say,  that  she  was  a  "  believing-  wife"  at 
this  time  ;  but  she  certainly  pursued  a  wiser  plan  of  reclaim- 
ing an  ungodly  husband,  than  some  believing  wives  do. 
Accordingly,  her  "  chaste  conversation,  coupled  with  fear," 
had  a  winning  influence  upon  him.  His  oldest  Biographer 
says,  "  She  frequently  enticed  and  persuaded  him  to  read  " 
the  books  left  her  by  her  father,  and  "  to  apply  them  to 
himself." 

These  books  were  only  two,  "  The  Plain  Man's  Pathway 
to  Heaven,"  and  "  The  Practice  of  Piety."  It  was,  how- 
ever, to  "  the  relation  "  (and  Bunyan  evidently  meant  by 
that,  what  his  wife  related  concerning  her  father's  "  holy 
life  ")  as  much  as  to  the  books,  that  he  ascribed  his  first 
desires  to  amend  at  all.  His  own  account  of  the  matter  is, 
"  In  these  two  books,  I  would  sometimes  read  with  her ; 
wherein  I  also  foiuid  some  things  that  were  somewhat 
pleasing  to  me ;  but  all  this  while  I  met  with  no  convic- 
tion." He  then  states  what  she  often  told  him  about  her 
father,  and  adds,  "  Wherefore  these  books,  with  the  relation, 
though  they  did  not  reach  my  heart,  to  awaken  it  about 
my  sad  and  sinful  state,  yet  they  did  beget  within  me  some 
desires  to  reform  my  vicious  life,  and  to  fall  in  very  eagerly 
with  the  religion  of  the  times." 

What  these  desires  led  to  will  be  seen  in  the  next  chap- 
ter. In  the  meantime,  it  is  evident,  that  to  Mrs.  Bunyan 
must  be  traced,  under  God,  Bunyan's  first  steps  in  the 
path  of  duty.  She,  not  the  Books,  wo7i  him  to  reflection. 
Indeed,  but  for  her,  he  would  not  have  read  the  books ; 
yea,  could  not  have  read  them.  Hence,  his  oldest  biogra- 
pher says,  "  To  the  voice  of  his  wife  he  hearkened,  and  by 
that  means  recovered  his  reading,  which,  not  minding  before, 
he  had  almost  lost."  This  is  no  exaggeration  :  he  himself 
says,  "  To  my  shame,  I  confess,  I  did  soon  lose  that  little  I 
learnt, — even  almost  utterly, — and  that  long  before  the  Lord 
did  work  his  gracious  work  of  conversion  upon  my  soul." 

E 


26  LIFE  OF  BUNYAN. 

Thus  his  wife  had  to  make  him  her  pupil,  as  if  he  had 
been  a  child :  a  triumph  which  none  but  a  wife,  and  that 
a  wife  combining  prudence  with  sweetness,  could  have 
achieved  over  a  ringleader  of  sports  and  impiety.  True, 
Bunyan  would  be  an  apt  scholar,  and  soon  recover  his  lost 
learning- ;  but  she  also  must  have  been  **  apt  to  teach." 
The  difficulty  was  to  keep  him  within  doors  after  his  work 
was  done,  and  to  draw  him  to  her  side  with  a  book  in  his 
hand,  whilst  the  roisterers  on  the  village  green  were  play- 
ing at  trap,  and  his  own  bat  and  ball  lying  dry  in  the 
chimney-corner.  All  this  was  "  tempting  fruit "  to  him. 
Her  voice  must,  therefore,  have  sounded  sweeter  than  even 
the  bells  of  Elstow,  and  her  smile  been  brighter  than  the 
laugh  of  the  merry-makers,  whenever  she  kept  him  at  home 
to  read. 

I  dwell,  I  confess,  upon  her  influence,  with  a  fondness 
bordering  on  extravagance.  I  do  not  feel,  however,  that 
I  am  exaggerating,  in  ascribing  so  much  to  its  instrumen- 
tality. He  himself  calls  it  a  "mercy,"  and  says,  "  Until  I 
came  into  the  marriage  state,  I  was  the  very  ringleader  of 
all  the  youth  that  kept  me  company,  in  all  manner  of  vice 
and  ungodliness."  Her  character,  however,  will  come  out 
more  fully,  as  we  trace  the  progress  of  the  reformation  of 
his  character,  in  the  next  two  chapters.  And  it  is  worth 
bringing  out ;  for  although  she  was  incapable  of  directing 
his  inquiries,  or  solving  his  difficulties,  when  he  entangled 
himself  amongst  the  thorns  and  briars  of  unanswerable 
questions,  she  bore  with  silent  meekness  all  the  wayward 
moods  of  his  wounded  spirit,  and  kept  his  home  a  sanctuary, 
where  he  could  weep  unseen. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  27 


CHAPTER  IV. 

bunyan's  first  reformation. 

It  was  some  reformation  in  his  case  even  to  go  to  church 
at  all  on  the  Sabbath.  By  the  influence  of  his  wife,  and  her 
father's  books  and  memory,  he  fell  in  eagerly  with  the 
religion  of  the  times.  His  own  account  of  this  change  is 
equally  minute  and  graphic.  "  I  went,"  he  says,  "  to 
Church  twice  a  day,  and  that  too  with  the  foremost ;  and 
there  I  would  very  devoutly  both  say  and  sing  as  others 
did,  yet  retained  my  wicked  life.  But  withal,  I  was  so 
overrun  with  the  spirit  of  superstition,  that  I  adored,  and 
that  with  great  devotion,  even  all  things  belonging  to  the 
Church  ;  the  high  place  (pulpit),  priest,  clerk,  vestment, 
service,  and  what  else ;  counting  all  things  holy,  that  were 
tlierein  contained  ;  and  especially  the  priest  and  clerk  most 
happy,  and  without  doubt  greatly  blessed,  because  they 
were  the  servants  of  God,  as  I  then  thought,  and  were 
principal  in  his  temple,  to  do  his  work  therein. 

'*  This  conceit  grew  so  strong  in  a  little  time  upon  my 
spirit,  that  had  I  but  seen  a  priest  (though  never  so  de- 
bauched and  sordid  in  his  life)  I  should  feel  my  spirit  fall 
under  him,  reverence  him,  and  knit  to  him.  Yea,  I  thought, 
for  the  love  I  did  bear  unto  them  (supposing  them  the 
Ministers  of  God),  I  could  have  laid  down  at  their  feet, 
and  have  been  trampled  upon  by  them  ;  their  name,  their 
garb  and  work,  did  so  intoxicate  and  bewitch  me." 

Dr.  Sou  they  says  of  this,  "  Bunyan  describes  himself  as 
having  a  most  superstitious  veneration  "  for  the  servants  and 


28 


LIFE  OF  BUNYAN. 


service  of  the  Church ;  and  very  properly  adds,  "  The 
service,  it  must  be  remembered,  was  not  the  Liturgy  of 
the  Church  of  England,  but  the  Directory  of  the  victorious 
Puritans,  substituted  for  it." — Soutlieys  Bunyan, 

Now,  I  have  no  objection  to  this  distinction.  I  even 
think  the  Directory  *'  7neagre"  when  compared  with  the 
Liturg-y.  What,  however,  is  the  design  of  this  contrast 
here  ?  Does  the  meagreness  of  the  Directory  account  for 
Bunyan's  gross  superstition  ?  Would  the  Liturgy  have 
prevented  "  most  superstitious  reverence,"  for  either  priest, 
service,  garb,  or  what  else  ?  If  it  would  then,  it  does  not 
now.  Its  very  excellencies — and  I  think  them  glories — 
win,  from  wiser  men  than  Bunyan  then  was,  veneration  for 
priests  who  utter  nothing  evangelical  hut  the  liturgy.  It 
is  easy  to  laugh  at  Bunyan's  veneration  for  the  clerk  ;  but 
veneration  for  Archbishop  Laud  is  far  more  laughable,  and 
superstitious  too,  if  Bishop  Hall's  opinion  of  him  was  just, 
or  Hume's  honest.  I  have  much  sympathy  for  Laud  on 
the  scaffold  :  his  dying  prayer,  as  given  by  Rushworth,  I 
love  more  than  I  can  express.  Its  opening  petitions 
breathe  a  penitential  faith  of  the  highest  order,  because  of 
the  humblest  character.  But  Laud  on  the  scaffold,  and 
Laud  on  his  own  throne  or  behind  the  King's  throne,  is 
not  the  same  person.  His  life  was  a  curse  to  the  Church, 
whatever  ornament  his  death  became.  They  are  more  super- 
stitious than  Bunyan,  who  canonize  either  Laud  or  Charles. 

It  was  whilst  this  superstitious  fit  lasted,  that  Bunyan 
consulted  his  father  about  the  Jews.  They,  like  the 
Gypsies,  had  come  out  of  Egypt  originally  ;  and  as  Tinkers 
and  Gypsies  were  often  identified,  he  fondly  hoped  that 
there  might  be  some  connexion  between  the  two  races. 
"  The  Israelites,"  he  says,  "  were  once  the  peculiar  people 
of  God :  if  I  were  one  of  them,  thought  I,  my  soul  must 
needs  be  happy.  I  found  a  great  longing  to  be  resolved 
about  this  question  ;  but  could  not  tell  how  I  should." 
He  asked  his  father,  and  he  told  him,  "  No,  we  were  not." 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  29 

He  then  fell  in  spirit,  as  to  the  hopes  of  that.  The  fact 
seems  to  be,  that  he  was  unhappy  in  his  own  mind  ;  but 
still  wishing  for  an  easier  way  to  heaven,  than  he  had 
found  church-g-oing  to  be,  easy  as  he  made  that  duty  by 
sport  afterwards.  He  wanted  to  be  one  of  the  ^'^ peculiar 
people,"  that  he  might  have  nothing  peculiar  to  do^  as  he 
thought.  So  think  many,  who  conclude  their  own  election 
from  less  resemblance  to  the  Elect,  than  what  subsists 
between  Jews  and  Gypsies. 

*'  But  all  this  while,"  he  says,  "  I  was  not  sensible  of  the 
danger  and  evil  of  sin.  I  was  kept  from  considering,  that 
sin  would  damn  me,  what  religion  soever  I  followed,  unless 
I  was  found  in  Christ.  Nay,  I  never  thought  of  Him,  nor 
whether  there  was  such  a  one  or  no." 

What  must  the  Directory  have  been,  it  may  be  said, 
seeing  it  left  him  thus  ignorant  of  the  Saviour  ?  Very 
inferior,  I  grant,  to  the  Liturgy,  except  when  filled  up  by 
the  prayers  of  eminently  devotional  men  :  I  have,  however, 
known  of  not  a  few  instances  of  similar  ignorance,  under 
the  Liturgy.  The  sober  experimental  fact  is,  that  the 
Prayers  rarely  teach  the  ignorant  the  way  of  salvation, 
however  much  they  edify  the  pious.  Wherever  the  Pulpit 
contradicts  the  Desk,  the  prayers  soon  become  a  dead 
letter.  This  is  a  solemn,  as  well  as  a  sober  fact ;  for  if  any 
thing  human  could  counteract  bad  preaching,  the  Liturgy 
would  do  so  ;  but  it  is  itself  counteracted  wherever  the 
Gospel  is  not  preached. 

Whatever  else  Bunyan's  "  parson  "  was,  he  seems  to  have 
been  a  Puritan,  in  reference  to  the  Sabbath.  It  was  well 
for  Bunyan  he  was  so.  A  sermon  against  amusements 
on  that  day,  made  him  feel  what  he  never  felt  before — 
guilty  before  God.  "  One  day,"  he  says,  **  amongst  all  the 
sermons  our  parson  made,  his  subject  was,  to  treat  of  the 
Sabbath-day,  and  of  the  evil  of  breaking  that,  either  with 
labour,  sports,  or  otherwise.  Now  I  was,  notwithstanding 
my  religion,  one  that  took  much  delight  in  all  manner  of 


30 


LIFE  OF  BUNYAN. 


vice ;  and  especially  that  was  the  day  I  did  solace  myself 
therewith.  Wherefore  I  fell  in  my  conscience  under  this 
sermon  ;  thinking  and  believing-  that  he  made  that  sermon 
on  purpose  to  show  me  my  evil  doing.  And  at  that  time 
I  felt  what  guilt  was,  though  never  before,  that  I  can 
remember :  but  then  I  was,  for  the  present,  greatly  loaden 
therewith,  and  so  went  home  when  the  sermon  was  ended, 
with  a  great  burthen  upon  my  spirit. 

"  This,  for  that  instant,  did  benumb  the  sinews  of  my 
best  delights,  and  did  embitter  my  former  pleasures  to  me. 
But  hold — it  lasted  not !  for  before  I  had  well  dined,  the 
trouble  began  to  go  off  my  mind,  and  my  heart  returned 
to  its  old  course.  O,  how  glad  was  I,  that  this  trouble  was 
gone  from  me,  and  that  the  fire  was  put  out,  that  I  might 
sin  again  without  control !  Wherefore,  when  I  had  satis- 
fied nature  with  my  food,  I  shook  the  sermon  out  of  my 
mind,  and  to  my  old  custom  of  sports  and  gaming  I 
returned  with  great  delight." 

Dr.  Southey  says,  "  It  is  remarkable  to  find  a  married 
man  engaged  in  games  which  are  now  only  practised  by 
boys."  This  seems  to  imply  that  Bunyan  was  singular^  in 
thus  desecrating  the  Sabbath.  Would  he  had  been  so ! 
But  he  was  not.  Married  men,  and  greybeards,  as  well  as 
boys,  then  acted  up  to  the  letter  and  the  spirit  of  the  Book 
of  Sports.  Besides,  what  else  was  to  be  expected  from  Bun- 
yan ?  He  was  no  Puritan,  whatever  his  Minister  may  have 
been.  If  he  was  any  thing,  he  was  now  a  high-Church 
bigot,  according  to  the  cavalier  style  of  Churchmanship  ; 
saying  or  singing  any  thing  within  the  Church,  and  doing 
as  he  liked  when  he  came  out. 

So  far  the  Doctor's  remark  is  inexplicable.  It  is  preceded, 
however,  by  the  following j^m^  at  the  Puritans  :  "  Notwith- 
standing the  outcry  which  they  had  raised  against  what  is 
called  The  Book  of  Sports,  they  found  it  necessary  to 
tolerate  such  recreations  on  the  Sabbath."  This  is  an  un- 
fortunate remark,  in  connexion  with  a  sermon  against  such 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  3! 

sports,  which  had  set  on  jire  the  conscience  of  Bunyan. 
The  sermon  which  did  that  could  not  have  been  very  tolerant 
to  Sunday  recreations.  The  preacher  may  have  been 
obliged  to  wink  at  such  things,  from  inability  to  enforce 
the  law  against  them  ;  but  this  was  not  tolerating  them. 

Bunyan's  dinner  did  not  quench  the  fire  which  the  sermon 
had  kindled.  Dr.  Southey  says  well,  "  The  dinner  sat 
easy  upon  him  ;  the  sermon  did  not."  Bunyan  says  better, 
"  But  the  sayne  day,  as  I  was  in  the  midst  of  a  game  of 
Cat,  and  having  struck  it  one  blow  from  the  hole, — just  as 
I  was  about  to  strike  it  a  second  time,  a  voice  did  suddenly 
dart  from  Heaven  into  my  soul^  which  said,  *  Wilt  thou 
leave  thy  sins  and  go  to  heaven,  or  have  thy  sins  and  go 
to  hell  ?'  At  this,  I  was  put  into  an  exceeding  maze. 
Wherefore,  leaving  my  Cat  on  the  ground,  I  looked  up  to 
heaven,  and  was  as  if  I  had,  with  the  eyes  of  my  imder- 
sta7iding,  seen  the  Lord  Jesus  looking  down  upon  me,  as 
being  very  hotly  displeased  with  me ;  and  as  if  he  did 
severely  threaten  me  with  some  grievous  punishment  for 
these  and  other  ungodly  practices.*' 

At  this  point,  as  might  be  expected,  Bunyan's  biogra- 
phers differ.  Ivimey  lets  the  vision  alone.  Mons.  Suard 
tells  it  with  a  true  French  sneer.  Dr.  Southey  says,  "  The 
voice  Bunyan  believed  to  be  from  Heaven ;  and  it  may  be 
inferred  from  his  relation,  that  though  he  was  sensible  the 
vision  was  only  seen  with  the  miners  eye,  he  deemed  it  not 
the  less  real."  J.  A.  St.  John  says,  "  The  passage  trans- 
lated into  common  English,  means  no  more  than  that  the 
thought  arose  in  his  mind  ;  and  being  an  incitement  to 
goocl^  must,  he  supposed,  proceed  from  Heaven."  Scott  of 
Aston  Sandford  says,  "The  consciousness  of  his  wicked 
course  of  life,  accompanied  with  the  recollection  of  the 
truths  he  had  read,  suddenly  meeting  in  his  mind,  thus 
produced  a  violent  alarm,  and  made  such  an  impression  on 
his  imagination,  that  he  seemed  to  have  heard  these  words, 
and  to  have  seen  Christ  frowning  and  menacing  him.     But 


32 


LIFE  OF  BUNYAN. 


we  must  not  suppose  that  there  was  any  miracle  wrought ; 
nor  could  there  be  any  occasion  for  a  new  revelation  to 
sugg-est  or  enforce  so  scriptural  a  warning." 

This  last  explanation  of  the  matter  is  the  best,  so  far  as 
all  but  Bunyan  himself  are  concerned.  It  is  also  the  true 
explanation  of  the  vision,  so  far  as  means  were  concerned. 
This  was  not  the  way,  however,  in  which  Bunyan  explained 
it  to  himself.  He  saw  more  in  it,  than  the  junctimi  of 
recollected  truth  and  conscience.  He  says,  indeed,  that  it 
was  darted  into  his  soul;  conceived  in  his  mind  ;  seen  with 
the  eyes  of  his  understanding :  and  special  metaphysical 
pleading  might  make  a  great  deal  out  of  these  words,  to 
prove  that  he  reckoned  the  whole  matter  only  a  very  vivid 
creation  of  the  mind  itself.  Be  it  remembered,  however, 
that  by  the  time  Bunyan  wrote  his  own  account  of  it,  no 
man  knew  better  than  he  did  what  vivid  imaginings  were. 
Many  thoughts  had  been  virtually  realities;  and  many 
ideas  sensations,  to  him.  But  no  familiarity  he  ever  acquired 
with  mental  phenomena,  led  him  to  strip  this  signal  provi- 
dence of  the  supernatural  entirely.  He  was  too  wise  to 
call  it  a  miracle,  but  he  was  too  pious  to  exclude  the  hand 
of  God  from  it :  that  hand,  indeed,  cannot  be  excluded 
from  the  event,  by  any  philosophy  which  deserves  the 
name. 

I  have  called  Scott's  explanation  both  the  best  and  the 
true  one,  because  Scott  does  not  intend  to  exclude  the 
agency  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  although  he  mentions  only  the 
meeting  of  Truth  and  Conscience.  It  is  only  justice  to 
Thomas  Scott,  to  say  this.  He  was,  I  both  grant  and 
regret,  too  much  afraid  of  what  he  calls  "  those  impres- 
sions, which  constitute  so  large  a  portion  of  Bunyan's 
religious  experience."  He  thought  it  "  not  advisable  to 
recapitulate"  them.  Dr.  Southey  judged  more  wisely, 
although  less  kindly  towards  the  agency  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
when  he  said,  *'  Bunyan's  character  would  be  imperfectly 
understood,  and  could  not  be  justly  appreciated,  if  this  part 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  33 

of  his  history  were  kept  out  of  sight."  He  therefore  brings 
them  fully  into  sight ;  but,  as  a  "  Stage  of  hurning  enthu- 
siasm^ not  less  terrible  than  that  of  Pilgrim  in  the  Valley 
of  the  Shadow  of  Death."  Thus,  whilst  Scott's  object  was 
to  guard  the  doctrine  of  Divine  Influence  from  being  con- 
founded with  visionary  impulses,  Southey's  object  was  to 
fasten  the  charge  of  "  rampant  fanaticism"  upon  Puritanism, 
as  well  as  to  make  Bunyan  "  admired  as  he  ought  to  be 
admired."  "  The  enthusiasm,"  he  says,  *'  was  brought  on 
by  the  circumstances  of  an  age  in  which  hypocrisy  was 
frequent,  and  fanaticism  rampant  throughout  the  land." — 
Southeifs  Life. 

There  is  only  too  much  truth  in  this  picture  of  the  pre- 
valence of  hypocrisy  and  fanaticism,  so  far  as  certain  sects, 
or  rather  cliques  of  the  day,  are  concerned :  but  there  is 
no  truth  in  the  supposition,  that  Bunyan's  enthusiasm  was 
"  brought  on  "  by  the  circumstances  of  the  age.  No  man 
had  hated,  or  kept  more  out  of  the  way  of  religious  pro- 
fessors, than  he  had  done.  Up  to  the  very  day  of  his  arrest 
upon  the  village  green,  he  had  read  no  books  of  a  fanatical 
order,  and  seems  to  have  taken  no  counsel  but  from  his 
wife  ;  and  she  had  been  "  trained  up,"  Dr.  S.  himself  says, 
"in  the  way  she  should  go."  Thus,  neither  Hypocrites 
nor  Fanatics  had  any  thing  to  do  with  Bunyan's  first 
mighty  impulse.  Even  the  Sermon  which  preceded  it 
seems  to  have  been  merely  practical.  No  former  ser- 
mon of  "  our  Parson's,"  as  Bunyan  calls  him,  had  produced 
any  effect  of  the  kind.  He  says,  that  he  had  never  thought 
of  Christ  before,  nor  felt  what  guilt  was  :  no  slight  proof, 
that  the  Preacher  was  not  very  puritanical.  I  will  sup- 
pose, however,  that  the  Sermon  against  Sabbath-breaking 
proclaimed  Christ  to  be  "  the  Lord  of  the  Sabbath  ;"  and 
even  threatened  transgression  with  his  hot  displeasure ; 
yea,  that  it  closed  by  the  appeal,  "  Wilt  thou  leave  thy 
sins  and  go  to  heaven,  or  have  thy  sins  and  go  to 
hell?" 


34  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

I  am  even  inclined  to  think,  that  it  must  have  run 
somewhat  in  this  strain.  Still,  not  even  all  this  concession 
will  account  for  the  effect  produced  on  Bunyan,  when  his 
recollections  of  the  appeal  assumed  the  aspect  of  a  vision. 
Then  it  plunged  him  into  despair ;  whereas  the  Sermon, 
although  it  had  made  him  feel  guilty  before  God,  had  not 
excited  the  fear  of  perishing.  Its  immediate  effect  was 
confined  to  emhittering  his  old  pleasures ;  and  that  bitter- 
ness was  soon  at  an  end.  Accordingly,  after  dinner,  he 
went  with  ^'^ great  delight^^  to  his  old  sports.  He  was  not, 
therefore,  doing  much  violence  to  his  understanding  or 
conscience,  in  returning  to  play.  Accordingly,  he  struck 
iho.  first  blow  at  Cat,  and  that  in  "  the  midst  of  the  game," 
without  fear  or  compunction.  It  was  not  until  he  was 
about  to  strike  the  second,  that  he  was  startled.  This 
deserves  notice.  Had  he  left  his  house  as  he  entered  it, 
greatly  burdened  and  embittered  in  spirit,  the  first  stroke 
would  have  been  the  most  difficult.  Conscience,  had  not 
its  "  fire  been  put  out,"  would  have  flashed  up  at  the  first 
outrage  offered  to  it ;  and  his  heart,  had  it  not  become 
*'  glad,"  would  have  made  his  hand  tremble.  He  was  not, 
therefore,  doing  violence  to  his  better  judgment  or  feelings, 
when  he  began  to  play.  He  went  to  Cat  with  great  delight, 
and  struck  the  first  blow  with  perfect  freedom  ;  but  the 
second  he  could  not  strike.  He  left  his  cat  on  the  ground, 
and  looked  up  to  heaven. 

Now,  although  this  arrest  may  be  accounted  for,  by  a 
happy  meeting  of  Truth  and  Conscience,  that  effectual 
meeting  itself  remains  unaccounted  for.  '  They  had  met 
before  dinner,  without  producing  fear ;  but  now  torment- 
ing fear  accompanied  a  sense  of  guilt.  Why  ?  Un- 
doubtedly, because  the  Spirit  of  all  grace  brought  Truth 
and  Conscience  into  closer  union.  It  was  His  striving 
with  the  man,  that  arrested  the  man.  He  convinced  him 
of  "  sin  and  judgment,"  although  not  of  "  righteousness  " 
also,  then  :  and  the  conviction  falling  upon  a  mind  highly 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  36' 

imaginative,  and  but  recently  excited,  was  wrought  by 
fancy,  into  visible  forms  and  audible  sounds. 

Those  who  have  been  afraid  to  say  this,  were  deterred 
by  what  Dr.  Southey  well  calls  "  the  insane  reasoning-" 
which  followed.  It  was  insane  to  conclude,  as  Bunyan  did, 
that  he  must  be  damned  ;  that  it  was  now  too  late  to  look 
after  heaven  ;  that  Christ  would  not  pardon  his  sins. 
This  reasoning,  however,  was  not  founded  upon  the 
visionary  form  which  the  conviction  assumed.  T\\e  Jirst 
words  which  darted  into  his  soul,  should  have  prevented 
this  despair  ;  for  they  were,  *'  Wilt  thou  leave  thy  sins  and 
go  to  Heaven  ?"  This  "  good  thought"  was  worthy  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  to  suggest,  and  directly  calculated  to  awaken  a 
good  hope  through  grace.  And  even  the  succeeding  words, 
*'  or  wilt  thou  have  thy  sins  and  go  to  Hell  ?"  awful  as 
they  are,  presented  an  alternative. 

There  is,  therefore,  no  reason  for  being  ashamed  or 
afraid  to  ascribe  to  the  Holy  Spirit  the  conviction,  as  it 
flashed  into  Bunyan's  mind.  In  its  original  form,  it  was 
in  the  words  of  both  truth  and  soberness.  It  w^as  Bunyan's 
oicn  spirit  that  flashed  it  back  into  the  firmament,  in 
visionary  and  terrific  forms  :  and  thus  neither  with  these, 
nor  with  the  insane  reasonings  which  followed  them,  had 
the  Spirit  of  God  any  thing  to  do. 

It  is  by  overlooking  this  distinction,  that  many  good 
men  are  very  shy  to  acknowledge,  or  even  to  recognise, 
the  presence  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  this  remarkable  event. 
There  is,  how^ever,  no  occasion  for  such  timidity.  What 
followed  the  divine  conviction,  was  all  a  human  perversion 
of  both  its  character  and  design. 

The  insane  reasonings  will  prove  this.  Bunyan  says, 
"  I  had  no  sooner  conceived  thus  (the  anger  of  Christ)  in 
my  mind,  but,  suddenly,  this  conclusion  was  fastened  on 
my  mind  (for  the  former  hint  did  set  my  sins  again  before 
my  face),  that  I  had  been  a  great  and  grievous  sinner,  and 
that  it  was  now  too  late  for  me  to  look  after  heaven  ;  for 


36 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


Christ  would  not  forgive  me,  nor  pardon  my  transgressions. 
Then  I  fell  to  musing  on  this  also  ; — and  whilst  I  was  think- 
ing of  it,  and  fearing  it  should  be  so,  I  felt  my  heart  sink  in 
despair  ;  concluding  it  was  too  late." — Southeys  Life. 

There  was  nothing  to  warrant  this  conclusion,  even  in 
the  supposed  frowns  or  threatenings  of  Christ.  "  Some 
grievous  punishment,"  was  all  that  they  suggested  toBunyan, 
whilst  he  gazed  on  these  vivid  embodyings  of  his  own  fears. 
It  was  not  until  he  began  to  'inuse  on  them,  that  he  plunged 
into  despair.  They  were  all  quite  over  and  gone  before 
he  began  to  muse.  His  rash  conclusions  were,  I  grant, 
very  rapid  :  not,  however,  unnaturally  so.  Such  thunder 
usually  follows  hard  after  swift  lightning,  and  rolls  both 
longer  and  farther  than  the  flash  indicates.  Penrose  under- 
stood the  rapid  movements  of  Despair,  when  he  sang  : — 

"  Drawn  by  her  pencil,  the  Creator  stands, 
(His  beams  of  Mercy  thrown  aside) 
With  thunder  arming  his  upHfted  hands, 
And  hurUng  Vengeance  wide. 
Hope,  at  the  sight  aghast,  affrighted  flies, 
And  dashed  on  Terror's  rocks,  Faith's  last  dependence  dies." 

Accordingly,  when  Bunyan  mused  until  he  despaired, 
he  soon  became  desperate.  '*  Concluding  it  was  too  late, 
I  resolved  to  go  on  in  sin :  for,  thought  I,  if  the  case  be 
thus,  my  state  is  surely  miserable ;  miserable  if  I  leave  my 
sins  ;  (see  how  he  forgets  the  first  words  suggested  to  him 
by  the  Holy  Spirit !)  and  but  miserable  if  I  follow  them." 
Now  he  perverts  the  divine  conviction  !  What,  I  ask,  could 
be  expected,  but  that  this  process  of  reasoning  should  end 
in  the  horrid  conclusion,  "  I  can  htit  be  damned  ;  and  if  I 
must  be  so,  I  had  as  good  be  damned  for  many  sins,  as  for 
few."  Awful  as  this  is,  it  is  not  very  uncommon,  I  have 
known  many  instances  of  it.  Bunyan  himself,  although 
the  recollection  of  it  shocked  him  to  the  very  end  of  his 
life,  had  ceased  to  wonder  at  it  before  he  recorded  it.  "I 
am  verv  confident,"  he  says,  "  that  this  temptation  of  the 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  37 

Devil  is  more  usual  among-  poor  creatures  than  many  are 
aware  of;  even  to  overrun  the  spirits  with  a  scurvy  and 
seired  frame  of  heart,  and  a  benumbing  of  conscience ; 
which  frame  he  stilly  and  slyly  supplieth  with  such  despair, 
that,  thoug-h  not  much  guilt  attendeth  such,  yet  they  have 
continually  a  secret  conclusion  within  them,  that  there  is  no 
hope  for  them  ;  for  they  have  loved  sins,  therefore  after 
them  they  will  go."  He  confirms  his  opinion  by  quoting 
the  following  texts  : — "  But  thou  saidst.  There  is  no  Hope  : 
no,  for  I  have  loved  strangers,  and  after  them  I  will  go." 
*'  And  they  said.  There  is  no  Hope  :  but  we  will  walk  every 
one  after  our  own  devices,  and  we  will  every  one  do  the 
imagination  of  his  evil  heart." — Jer.  ii.  25  ;  xviii.  12. 

It  is  worthy  of  notice,  that  Bunyan,  although  horror- 
struck  by  the  vision,  had  pride  or  self-command  enough  to 
keep  silence  all  the  time.  He  was  unable  to  hold  his  Cat ; 
but  he  held  his  peace.  Not  a  word  betrayed  the  cause  of 
his  sudden  stop  from  playing.  "  I  stood"  he  says,  "  in  the 
midst  of  my  play  before  all  my  companions  ;  but  yet  I  told 
them  nothing.  They  wondered,  no  doubt,  to  see  their 
ringleader  drop  his  Cat,  and  stand  stock-still.  He  saw  that 
wonder  in  their  looks,  and  was  too  proud  to  confess  his 
secret.  He  could  not  look  so  bold  or  calm  as  they  did  ; 
but  he  did  not  own  himself  crest-fallen.  He  could  not 
brook  the  idea  of  seeming  a  coward  or  craven,  before  those 
who  had  always  seen  him  the  master-spirit  of  their  revels 
and  blasphemy.  His  expression,  "  I  told  theTn  nothing," 
tells  us  a  great  deal ! 

It  was  some  such  considerations,  I  have  no  doubt,  that 
kept  him  silent.  He  saw  at  a  glance,  that  his  fame  would 
be  gone  for  ever,  and  his  leadership  lost,  if  he  breathed  his 
fears  or  his  forebodings  upon  the  village  green.  He  knew 
that  he  would  be  twitted  and  taunted  by  the  only  com- 
panions he  had,  for  allowing  himself  to  be  frightened  by 
"  our  Parson,"  in  the  morning.  All  this  had  more  weight 
with  him  at  the  time,  than  he  himself  suspected  when  he 


38  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

wrote  the  emphatic  words,  *'  I  told  them  nothing-."  It 
was  that  they  might  discover  nothing-,  and  suspect  but 
little,  that  he  rushed  "  desperately  to  his  sport  again." 

This,  also,  is  no  uncommon  thing,  even  among-st  young- 
men  who  have  far  more  literary  and  social  resources  to  fall 
back  upon  than  the  Tinker  had  ;  and  much  stronger  family 
reasons  for  quitting-  the  chair  of  the  scorner  and  the  haunts 
of  the  wild.  Many  *'  keep  it  up,"  as  they  phrase  it,  because 
they  would  be  laughed  at  if  they  let  it  down.     O,  how — 

"  The  world's  dread  laugh  " 

can  bind  young-  men  to  the  chariot-wheels  of  some  clashing 
Leader  of  vice  or  vanity,  although  he  himself  is  just  as 
much  bound  to  his  chariot  by  the  same  laugh,  as  they  are 
to  its  wheels !  They  are  afraid  of  his  jibes,  and  he  is  afraid 
of  their  scorn  :  and  thus  both  keep  it  up,  although  both  are 
often  sick  of  each  other.  I  knew,  in  early  life,  an  old 
man,  the  oracle  of  a  village,  who  seemed  inspired  with 
new  life  from  day  to  day,  as  he  spread  Infidelity  amongst 
raw  lads.  I  wondered  at  his  apparent  hilarity.  After  a 
time,  I  heard  that  he  was  dying.  I  went  to  see  him.  He 
had  swallowed  poison,  and  was  cursing  both  himself  and 
his  dupes  for  their  folly.  It  was  an  awful  scene  I  I 
succeeded,  however,  in  saving  his  life,  by  forcing  him  to 
swallow  tar-water.  He  said,  that  he  would  unsay  all  his 
old  maxims  before  his  young  dupes.  But  he  never  did. 
I  had  to  tell  them  the  tale  of  horror.  He  recovered,  only 
to  drink  and  speculate.  They  soon  rallied  their  spirits,  to 
laugh  at  the  tar -water. 


LIFE    OF    BUXYA>r.  39 


CHAPTER  V. 

bunyan's  second  reformation. 

Bunyan's  first  reformation,  as  we  have  seen,  did  not 
amount  to  much,  nor  last  long.  He  turned  over  a  new 
leaf,  and  but  one  leaf;  and  that  he  soon  turned  back  to  its 
old  place ;  for  he  seems  neither  to  have  gone  to  Church 
again,  nor  to  have  read  with  his  wife,  for  some  time,  after 
he  determined  to  '*  go  on  in  sinning." 

This  will  not  be  wondered  at,  when  the  form  of  that 
determination  is  read.  We  have  seen  that  he  returned 
desperately  to  his  sport  on  the  green,  when  his  pride  rallied 
his  spirits.  This  he  did,  he  says,  under  a  "  kind  of  despair," 
which  possessed  his  soul  with  a  persuasion,  that  he  "  could 
never  attain  to  other  comfort,  than  that  which  sinning 
could  furnish.  This  would  have  been  an  ensnaring  tempta- 
tion to  any  man.  To  Bunyan  it  was  an  infiamiJig  one. 
It  set  on  fire  the  whole  course  of  his  nature.  "  Heaven 
was  gone,"  he  says ;  "  wherefore  I  found  within  me  a 
great  desire  to  take  my  fill  of  sin  :  still  studying  what  sin 
was  yet  to  be  committed,  that  I  might  taste  the  sweetness 
of  it.  And  I  made  as  much  haste  as  I  could  to  fill  my  belly 
with  its  delicacies,  lest  I  should  die  before  1  had  my 
desires : — for  that  I  greatly  feared." 

This  is  as  explicit  as  it  is  awful.  And  yet,  Dr.  Southey 
says,  that  swearing  was  "  the  only  actual  sin  to  which  he 
was  addicted!"  Bunyan  himself  says  of  the  preceding 
confession,  "  In  these  things,  I  protest  before  God,  I  lie 


40 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


not ;  neither  do  I  frame  this  sort  of  speech.  These  were 
really,  strongly,  and  with  all  my  heart,  my  desires.  The 
good  Lord,  whose  mercy  is  unsearchable,  forgive  my  trans- 
gressions !  Now,  therefore,  I  went  on  in  sin  with  great 
greediness  of  mind;  still  grudging  that  I  could  not  be 
satisfied  with  it  as  I  would." 

Now,  although  Bunyan  often  calls  vanities,  vices  j  and 
follies,  sins ;  and  sinful  desires,  transgressions ;  both  his 
sense  and  Saxon  are  too  good  to  allow  such  a  confession 
to  be  interpreted  of  swearing  only.  I  know  that  it  does 
not  mean  sensuality,  nor  habitual  drunkenness ;  but  I  am 
quite  sure  that  it  means  more  than  swearing,  or  even  than 
blaspheming.  It  means  theft  also  :  petty,  it  may  be ;  but 
still  theft.  Hence,  when  his  conscience  became  tender,  he 
says,  "  I  durst  not  take  a  pin  or  stick,  though  but  so  big  as 
a  straw  ;  for  my  conscience  now  was  sore,  and  would 
smart  at  every  touch."  In  like  manner,  one  of  the  first 
compliments  paid  to  him  on  his  reformation,  by  his  neigh- 
bours, was,  that  "  now  he  had  become  a  truly  honest  man." 
Thus  he  had  not  been  distinguished  for  honesty  before. 
Tinker-like,  he  had,  no  doubt,  taken  so  many  stakes  from 
the  hedges,  and  stray  fowls  from  the  farms,  that  neither 
the  farmers  nor  their  wives  would  have  countersigned  the 
assertion  of  Dr.  Southey,  that  "  swearing  was  his  only 
actual  sin." 

But,  whatever  the  confession  included,  Bunyan  says, 
"  This  did  continue  with  me  about  a  month  or  more  ;  but 
one  day,  as  I  was  standing  at  a  neighbour's  shop-window, 
cursing  and  swearing,  and  playing  the  mad-man^  after  my 
wonted  manner,  there  sat  within,  the  woman  of  the  house, 
and  heard  me  ;  who,  though  she  was  a  very  loose  ungodly 
ivretch  "  (in  this  all  the  old  accounts  of  her  agree),  "  yet 
protested,  I  swore  and  cursed  at  that  most  fearful  rate, 
that  she  was  made  to  tremble  to  hear  me  :  and  told  me 
ftirther,  that  I  was  the  ungodlicst  fellow  for  swearing  that 
she  ever  heard  in  all  her  life  ;   and  that  I,  by  thus  doing. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  41 

was  enough  to  spoil   all  the  youth  in  the  whole  town,  if 
they  came  but  in  my  company." 

Bunyan  little  expected  such  a  reproof  from  such  a 
quarter.  "  It  wrought  more  with  him,"  says  one  of  his  early 
Annalists,  "  than  many  that  had  been  given  him  before  by 
the  sober  and  godly."  His  first  Biographer  says,  *'  I  re- 
member he  declared,  that  the  first  impulse  upon  his  mind, 
was  the  sharp  rebuke  of  a  woman  who  was  reputed  to  be 
of  slender  virtue,  who  hearing  him  garnish  his  discourses, 
as  he  termed  it,  with  oaths  at  the  beginning  and  end, 
severely  reproved  him,  and  admonished  his  companions  to 
shun  his  conversation,  or  he  would  spoil  them,  and  make 
them  as  bad  as  himself."  Bunyan  himself  says,  "  At  this 
reproof,  I  was  silenced,  and  put  to  secret  shame ;  and  that 
too,  as  I  thought,  before  the  God  of  Heaven." 

I  have  recorded  this  minutely,  because  it  had  a  better 
effect  upon  him  than  his  supposed  vision,  and  because  from 
that  hour  his  second  reformation  began.  He  stood  by  the 
shop-window,  as  he  had  done  on  the  play-ground,  silent, 
indeed,  but  "  hanging  down  his  head,"  and  musing  more 
wisely,  although  more  openly  rebuked.  "  While  I  stood 
there,"  he  says,  with  touching  simplicity,  "  I  wished,  with 
all  my  heart,  that  I  might  be  a  little  child  again,  that  my 
Father  might  learn  me  to  speak  without  this  wicked  way 
of  swearing :  for,  thought  I,  I  am  so  much  accustomed  to 
it,  that  it  is  in  vain  for  me  to  think  of  a  reformation :  for, 
I  thought,  that  could  never  be." 

He  was  now  touching  again  the  very  rock  upon  which 
his  former  convictions  made  shipwreck.  He  remembered 
this  well,  and  felt  it  deeply  when  he  came  to  record  it  in 
his  Life.  Hence  he  says,  *'  How  it  came  to  pass,  /  know 
not;  but  I  did,  from  this  time  forward,  so  leave  off  my 
swearing,  that  it  was  a  great  wonder  to  myself  to  observe 
it.  And,  whereas  before,  I  knew  not  how  to  speak 
unless  I  put  an  oath  before  and  another  behind,  to  make 
the  words  have    authority  ;    now    I    could    speak    better 


42 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


without  it,  and  with  more  pleasantness  than  ever  I  could 
before." 

Thus  it  is  not  so  useless  for  the  bad  to  reprove  the 
worst,  as  the  Proverbs,  "  Satan  rebuking  sin,"  and  "  The 
kettle  calling-  the  pot  black,"  imply.  The  latter  proverb 
originated,  most  likely,  amongst  the  Tinkers,  and  had  been 
often  used,  perhaps,  by  Bunyan  himself,  to  turn  the  laugh 
against  ordinary  reprovers  j  but  now  he  could  not  employ 
it,  although  it  was  never  more  applicable.  The  fact  is, 
very  unexpected  reproofs  do  their  work  upon  the  conscience, 
before  the  memory  can  send  an  answer  into  the  lips. 
Perkins  of  Cambridge  (an  able  Puritan  divine  afterwards) 
was  shamed  out  of  his  drunken  habits  at  once,  by  overhear- 
ing a  poor  woman  say  to  her  crying  child,  "  Hold  your 
tongue,  or  I  will  give  you  to  drunken  Perkins,  yonder." 
Thus,  whilst  it  is  all  very  well  to  say  with  David,  "  Let 
the  Righteous  smite  me,"  there  is  more  occasion  for  shame 
when  the  wicked  may  repeat  the  blow,  without  injustice. 
Then,  it  is  pitiful  to  say,  "  Look  at  home,"  or  to  talk 
against  *'  Satan  reproving  sin."  Reproof  for  a  specific  sin 
or  inconsistency,  must  be  richly  deserved,  before  the  wicked 
would  think  of  administering  it. 

How  long  Bunyan's  reformation  was  confined  to  the 
abandonment  of  one  bad  habit,  cannot  now  be  ascertained 
with  certainty.  It  seems,  however,  to  have  been  so  for  a 
considerable  length  of  time.  Hence  he  says,  "  All  this 
while,  I  knew  not  Jesus  Christ,  neither  did  leave  my  sports 
and  plays."  Thus  he  was  not  carried  far  by  his  second 
convictions,  nor  influenced  by  any  regard  to  the  love  or 
the  authority  of  Christ.  This  is  what  he  means,  by  not 
knowing  Jesus  Christ.  Accordingly,  he  adds,  *'  I  was 
ignorant  of  the  corruptions  of  my  nature,  and  of  the  want 
and  worth  of  Christ  to  save  us." 

Soon  after  this,  happily,  Bunyan  was  led  to  take  great 
delight  in  reading  the  Scriptures.  This,  as  might  be 
expected,  enlarged  his  views  of  personal  reformation,  and 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  43 

increased  his  improvement.  It  had,  however,  from  its 
random  character,  another  effect ;  it  laid  the  foundation 
for  most  of  the  sad  mistakes  which  embarrassed  and  embit- 
tered his  spirit,  when  he  became  deeply  concerned  about 
his  salvation.  This  is  a  startling  remark,  I  am  aware. 
Indeed,  I  intend  it  to  be  so.  In  no  other  way  could  the 
reader  be  prepared  for  the  strange  fancies,  or  the  haunting 
fears,  which  mark  the  early  religious  experience  of  Bunyan. 
These  spring  chiefly,  however,  from  reading  fir  sty  and 
spiritualizing  in  his  own  allegorical  vein,  as  he  went  on, 
the  historical  parts  and  ceremonial  precepts  of  the  Old 
Testament.  He  thus  began  with  things  which  had  no 
direct  bearing  upon  his  eternal  interests,  or  his  moral 
improvement.  Even  the  Apocrypha  was  more  interesting 
to  him  than  the  Gospels ;  and  Paul's  Epistles,  he  could  not 
"  away  ivith  them  "  at  all. 

This  fact  has  been  too  little  noticed  hitherto,  or  brought 
in  too  late  to  be  useful.  Bunyan's  narrative  of  it  is  in  his 
best  style.  "  I  fell  into  company  with  one  poor  man  that 
made  profession  of  religion,  who,  as  I  then  thought,  did 
talk  pleasantly  of  the  Scriptures,  and  of  the  matter  of 
religion.  Wherefore,  falling  into  some  love  and  liking  to 
what  he  said,  I  betook  me  to  my  Bible,  and  began  to  take 
great  pleasure  in  reading ;  but  especially  in  the  historical 
part  thereof;  for,  as  for  Paul's  Epistles,  and  such  like  Scrip- 
tures, I  could  not  away  with  them,  being  as  yet  ignorant 
either  of  the  corruptions  of  my  nature,  or  of  the  want  and 
worth  of  Jesus  Christ  to  save  us."  Such  was  his  reading  ; 
partial  and  irregular.  His  new  counsellor,  also,  was  a  dan- 
gerous man  ;  for  although  not  then,  what  he  soon  afterwards 
became,  "  a  most  devilish  Ranter,"  and  eventually  an 
Atheist,  he  must  have  been  a  mere  talker,  and  a  thorough 
speculator,  however  "  pleasantly  "  he  could  speak  about  the 
Scriptures  and  the  matter  of  religion ;  for  men  who  soon 
come  to  "  deny  that  there  is  a  God,  angel,  or  spirit,"  never 
had  any  fixed  principles,  even  if  they  were  not,  as  this  man 


44  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

showed  himself  to  be,  licentious  at  the  heart's  core.  I  do 
not  now,  however,  enter  upon  his  history  any  farther  than 
just  to  show  that  Bunyan  fell  into  bad  hands,  when  this 
masked  libertine  became  his  "  intimate  companion."  He, 
indeed,  neither  knew  nor  suspected  him  to  be  rotten  at  the 
core  then.  In  fact,  he  became  acquainted  with  him  when 
he  was  least  dangerous  ;  for  the  man  was  then  trying  a 
moral  religion,  for  once  in  his  life,  after  having  run  the 
gauntlet  through  all  the  ranks  of  speculation.  He  came 
soon,  however,  "  to  laugh  at  all  sobriety  "  and  decency ; 
and,  therefore,  it  is  not  unfair  nor  rash  to  assume  that, 
from  the  first,  he  had  a  strong  disposition  to  *'  wrest  the 
Scriptures." 

These  facts  of  the  case  will  keep  the  reader  on  the  watch 
for  their  influence  upon  Bunyan's  mental  habits.  The 
Bible,  however,  even  as  he  read  it  then,  had  a  decided  in- 
fluence upon  his  moral  habits.  "  I  fell,"  he  says,  "  to  some 
outward  reformation,  and  did  set  the  Commandments  before 
me,  for  my  way  to  Heaven ;  which  commandments  I  also 
did  strive  to  keep  ;  and,  as  I  thought,  did  keep  them  pretty 
well  sometimes.  And  then,  I  should  have  comfort.  Yet 
now  and  then,  I  should  break  one,  and  so  afflict  my  con- 
science. But  then,  I  should  repent,  and  say  I  was  sorry 
for  it,  and  promise  God  to  do  better ;  and  there  got  help 
again ;  for,  then,  I  thought  I  pleased  God  as  well  as  any 
man  in  England." 

This  self-complacency,  whilst  it  sprang  from  his  own 
unrenewed  heart,  was  nourished  by  public  applause.  He 
was  now  a  new  man,  although  not  "  a  new  creature  ;"  and 
as  his  neighbours  were  ignorant  of  this  Scriptural  dis- 
tinction, *'  they  did  marvel  much,"  he  says,  **  to  see  such 
great  and  famous  alteration  in  my  life  and  manners.  They 
did  take  me  to  be  a  very  godly  man — a  new  and  religious 
man."  He  himself  admits  also,  that  the  alteration  was 
famous  :  "  and  indeed  so  it  was,"  he  says  ;  "  though  I  knew 
not  (then)  Christ,  nor  grace,  nor  faith,  nor  hope  ;  for  as  I  1 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  45 

have  well  since  seen,  had  I  died  then,  my  state  had  been 
most  fearful.  But,  I  say,  my  neig"hbours  were  amazed  at 
this  my  great  conversion  from  prodigious  profaneness,  to 
something  like  a  moral  life.  And  truly  so  they  well  might ; 
for  this  my  conversion  was  as  great,  as  for  Tom  of  Bedlam 
to  become  a  sober  man.  Now,  therefore,  they  began  to 
praise,  to  commend,  and  speak  well  of  me,  both  to  my 
face  and  behind  my  back.  Now  I  was,  they  said,  become 
godly ;  now  I  was  become  a  right  honest  man.  And  O, 
when  I  understood  those  were  their  words  and  opinions  of 
me,  it  pleased  me  mighty  well. 

It  is  impossible  not  to  imagine,  that  his  worthy  ivife 
brought  the  best  of  these  "  words  and  opinions  "  home  to 
him,  from  both  church  and  market.  Public  respect  was  a 
new  thing  to  the  Tinker  ;  and  as  he  enjoyed  it  mightily, 
she  would  naturally  keep  upon  the  outlook  for  whatever 
compliments  were  most  likely  to  gratify  him  ;  for  it  would 
never  occur  to  her,  that  she  was  feeding  his  vanity,  or 
ministering  to  his  self-righteousness.  The  only  thing  she 
saw  was,  her  husband  becoming  like  her  father ;  and  the 
only  thing  she  felt  was,  that  the  example  she  had  so  often 
held  up  for  imitation,  was  now  taking  effect.  I  can  see 
her  now,  hanging  over  his  chair  with  rapture ;  and  can  hear 
her  say,  "  O,  John,  dear,  that  is  so  like  what  father  was." 
Who  does  not  feel  that  there  is  more  fact  than  fancy  in 
this  vision  of  Bunyan's  fire  side,  when  Bunyan  was  "  talk- 
ing bravely  "  about  religion  ? 

I  do  not  forget  that  Bunyan  himself  felt  differently, 
when  he  wrote  the  history  of  his  Pharisaism.  Any  thing, 
however,  is  better  than  blackguardism,  especially  in  a  hus- 
band ;  and  that  wife  is  more  nice  than  wise,  who  would 
not  hail  and  help  on  the  moral  improvement  of  her  husband., 
even  if  she  knew  that  his  motives  and  his  spirit  were  legal — 
for  they  would  not  become  evangelical  by  finding  fault  with 
them — nor  by  calling  what  he  means  for  good,  by  ill 
names.     The  Cross  of  Christ  can  never  be  endeared  or 


46 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


commended  to  unconscious  Pharisees,  by  unmasking  abstract 
Pharisaism. 

Bunyan  was,  however,  although  he  knew  it  not  at  the 
time,  a  thorough  Pharisee.  Accordingly,  when  he  reviewed 
this  period  of  his  life,  he  said,  "  As  yet  I  was  nothing  but 
a  poor  painted  hypocrite ;  yet  I  loved  to  be  talked  of,  as 
one  that  was  truly  godly.  I  was  proud  of  my  godliness ; 
and,  indeed,  I  did  all  I  could,  either  to  be  seen  of,  or  to  be 
well  spoken  of  by  men.  And  thus  I  continued  for  about 
a  twelvemonth,  or  more." 

During  that  year,  his  conscience  began  to  question  the 
lawfulness  of  his  favourite  amusements — bell-ringing  and 
dancing.  And,  in  regard  to  the  former,  his  conscience  was 
not  at  all  too  squeamish  ;  for  the  ringing  he  had  loved 
occurred  chiefly  on  Sabbath ;  and  that  not  to  summon  the 
parish  to  worship,  but  to  serenade  them  after  worship.  It 
is  also  not  unlikely,  that  the  dancing  he  was  so  fond 
of,  followed  the  merry  peal  of  the  Sabbath-evening  bells. 
It  is  not  easy,  otherwise,  to  account  for  the  following 
struggles  he  had  to  make  before  he  could  give  either  up ; 
unless,  indeed,  we  suppose  that  the  company  in  the  steeple- 
tower,  or  on  the  green  of  Elstow,  were  no  longer  suited  to 
his  taste.  "  Now,  you  must  know,"  he  says,  "  that  before 
this,  I  had  taken  much  delight  in  ringing ;  but  my  con- 
science beginning  to  be  tender ^  I  thought  such  practice  but 
vain  ;  and  therefore  forced  myself  to  leave  it :  yet  my  mind 
hankered:  wherefore  I  would  go  to  the  steeple-house  (it 
was  a  distinct  house  from  the  Church),  and  look  on,  though 
1  durst  not  ring. 

'*  But  I  thought  this  did  not  become  Religion  neither ; 
yet  I  forced  myself,  and  would  look  on  still.  But  quickly 
after  I  began  to  think,  How  if  one  of  the  Bells  should  fall  ? 
Then  I  chose  to  stand  under  a  main-beam,  that  lay  over- 
thwart  the  steeple  from  side  to  side;  thinking,  there  I 
might  stand  sure.  But  then,  I  thought  again,  should  the 
Bell  fall  with  a  siving,  it  must  first  hit  the  wall,  and  then 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  47 

rebounding'  upon  me,  might  kill  me,  for  all  this  beam. 
This  made  me  stand  in  the  steeple  door.  And  now,  I 
thought,  I  am  safe  enough  ;  for  if  the  Bell  should  now 
fall,  I  can  slip  out  behind  these  thick  walls,  and  so  be  pre- 
served notwithstanding. 

"  So  after  this,  I  would  yet  go  to  see  them  ring  ;  but 
would  not  go  farther  than  the  steeple  door.  But  then  it 
came  into  my  head.  How  if  the  steeple  itself  should  fall  ? 
And  this  thought  did  continually  so  shake  my  mind,  that 
I  durst  not  stand  at  the  steeple  door  any  longer  ;  but  was 
forced  to  flee,  for  fear  the  steeple  should  fall  upon  my 
head. 

"  Another  thing  was,  my  dancing.  I  was  full  a  year 
before  I  could  quite  leave  that.  But,  all  this  while,  when 
I  thought  I  had  kept  this  or  that  commandment,  or  did,  by 
word  or  deed,  any  thing  I  thought  was  good,  I  had  great 
peace  of  conscience  ;  and  would  think  with  myself,  God 
cannot  choose  but  be  iiow  pleased  with  me  !  Yea,  to  relate 
this  in  my  own  way,  I  thought  no  man  in  England  could 
please  God  better  than  I !  But,  poor  wretch  as  I  was,  I 
was  all  this  while  ignorant  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  going  about 
to  establish  my  own  righteousness  :  and  had  perished 
therein,  had  not  God,  in  mercy,  shewed  me  my  state  by 
nature." 

All  this  is  in  Bunyan's  "  own  way*^  in  more  senses  than 
he  attached  to  the  expression.  He  meant  only  his  own 
style ;  and  that  he  had  a  right  to  call  his  own.  It  was 
wholly  his  own :  at  least,  it  smacks  only  of  Moses  and  the 
Evangelists.  Who,  therefore,  can  regret  that  he  had  read 
so  few  other  books  ?  The  best  contemporary  Works  would 
have  spoiled  both  his  language  and  his  taste.  It  is,  how- 
ever, his  reasonings  and  imaginings  in  the  bell-tower  of 
Elstow,  that  deserve  the  chief  attention  here.  They  throw 
more  light  upon  his  temperament^  than  even  his  reforma- 
tion itself:  and  I  am  gathering  such  lights,  even  more 
carefully  than  I  record  it,  (much  as  I  feel  interested  in 


48 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


every  step  of  it,)  because  we  shall  soon  want  strong  lights, 
in  order  to  follow  him  through  the  devious  and  capricious 
mazes  of  his  spiritual  history,  or  what  Dr.  Southey  calls, 
"  the  hot  and  cold  fits  of  a  spiritual  Ague."  These  fits 
would  have  been  less  mysterious  to  the  eloquent  Biogra- 
pher, had  he  studied  the  hot  and  cold  fits  of  Bunyan,  pro- 
duced by  the  question  of  bell-ringing.  That  called  into 
natural  and  full  play,  the  original  elements  and  tendencies 
of  Bunyan's  mind.  The  man  who  could,  and  did,  go  through 
such  a  process  of  hope  and  fear,  observation  and  conjec- 
ture, experiment  and  suspicion,  calculation  and  hesitation, 
in  the  case  of  an  improbable  danger,  and  in  spite  of  all  the 
massive  architecture  of  the  Tower  staring  him  in  the  face, 
is  just  the  kind  of  man  who  may  be  expected  (for  he  is 
sure)  to  examine  every  thing  which  interests  him  ;  not  only 
on  all  sides,  but  to  turn  it  inside  out,  and  outside  in  ;  and, 
after  having  scrutinized  all  its  parts,  in  all  lights,  he  is 
almost  sure  to  take  up  with  the  darkest  view  of  the  subject, 
so  far  as  he  himself  is  concerned  in  its  bearings.  Bunyan 
was  not,  indeed,  a  slothful  man,  to  invent  Lions  in  the 
way  ;  nor  a  nervous  man,  to  "suspect  Lions  :  but  he  was  a 
moody  and  mighty  Magician,  to  conjure  them  up  anywhere, 
and  at  all  times,  and  in  terrific  forms.  For  let  it  ever 
be  remembered,  that  it  was  the  same  powers  of  mind,  all 
unknown  to  himself  as  talents,  and  all  unbalanced  by  know- 
ledge or  example,  that  played  the  fool  and  the  madman 
alternately  with  scraps  of  Scripture  in  early  life,  which 
afterwards  invented  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  with  the  tact 
of  Shakspeare,  the  wisdom  of  Plato,  and  the  precision 
of  Locke.  The  powers  which  created  that  work,  were 
sure  to  run  wild^  whilst  they  knew  not  their  own  strength, 
and  had  no  guide,  and  nothing  delightful  enough  to  satisfy 
their  cravings  when  they  concentrated  their  exercise. 

But  I  forbear  :  I  was  not  made  for  philosophizing.  What 
I  mean  by  these  hints,  will  be  obvious  in  the  next  Chapter, 
however  they  may  cloud  the  end  of  this  one. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  49 


CHAPTER  VL 


BUNYAN  S    CONVERSION. 


Hitherto,  Bunyan  was,  at  best,  only  "  a  brisk  talker  " 
about  religion,  as  he  calls  himself ;  and  that  only  as  it  bore 
upon  opinion  and  a  few  practical  duties.  Nothing-  he  knew 
of  religion  had  humbled  him  at  all,  either  before  God  or 
man  ;  and  all  that  he  practised  only  made  him  proud  before 
both.  Like  many  who  turn  over  a  new  leaf  in  morals,  he 
never  looked  at  the  old  leaf,  which  was  still  uppermost 
in  his  heart. 

In  his  case,  this  can  hardly  be  won-dered  at.  He  had 
met  with  none  who  knew  "  the  plague  of  their  own  hearts  ;" 
and  his  reading  had  not  turned  at  all  upon  the  necessity  of 
a  new  heart,  or  of  a  right  spirit,  before  God.  His  wife, 
also,  although  well  disposed,  was  not  well  informed  on  this 
subject.  He  remembered  all  this  when  his  attention  was 
drawn  to  the  state  of  his  heart  \  and  gratefully  recorded 
the  means  of  it.  Hence  he  says,  *'  Upon  a  day,  the  good 
providence  of  God  called  me  to  Bedford,  to  work  at  my 
Calling :  and  in  one  of  the  streets  of  that  town  (would  we 
knew  which  street !)  I  came  where  there  were  three  or  four 
women  sitting  at  a  door  in  the  sun,  talking  about  the  things 
of  God.  And  being  now  willing  to  hear  what  they  said, 
I  drew  near,  to  hear  their  discourse — for  I  was  now  a  brisk 
talker  of  myself  in  the  matters  of  religion — but  I  may  say, 
I  heard,  but  understood  not ;  for  they  were  far  above,  out 
of  my  reach. 

"  Their  talk  was  about  a  new  birth — the  work  of  God 
in  their  hearts  ;  as  also,  how  they  were  convinced  of  their 


50  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

miserable  state  by  nature.  They  talked  how  God  had 
visited  their  souls  with  his  love  in  the  Lord  Jesus,  and 
with  what  Promises  they  had  been  refreshed,  comforted, 
and  supported  ag-ainst  the  temptations  of  the  devil.** 

All  this  was  new  to  Bunyan  ;  and  especially  that  part 
of  it  which  related  to  the  devil.  Of  him  he  had  never 
thought  before,  as  a  Tempter  to  any  thing-  but  wickedness 
or  crime  : — as  a  Tempter  to  despair,  distrust,  impatience, 
or  unbelief,  he  had  never  heard  or  dreamt.  According-ly, 
he  paid  unusual  attention  to  what  the  poor  women  said  on 
this  subject.  *'  Moreover,"  he  says,  "  they  reasoned  of  the 
suggestions  and  temptations  of  Satan,  in  particular  ;  and 
told  to  each  other,  by  what  means  they  had  been  afflicted, 
and  how  they  were  borne  up  under  his  assaults.  They 
also  discoursed  of  their  own  wretchedness  of  heart,  and  of 
their  unbelief ;  and  did  contemn,  slight,  and  abhor  their  own 
righteousness  as  filthy,  and  insufficient  to  do  them  any  good." 

All  this  perplexed  him,  and  compelled  him  to  feel  that 
these  new  things  were  strange  things  to  him.  And  yet,  he 
seems  to  have  asked  for  no  explanation  of  any  of  them  ;  not 
even  of  Satan's  temptations,  which  were  an  utter  mystery 
to  him.  This  is  the  more  remarkable,  as  he  evidently 
had  a  fair  opportunity  ;  for  the  women  were  communica- 
tive, and  he  was  either  sitting  or  standing  close  by  them. 
This  is  certain.  Accordingly,  when  they  had  finished  their 
conversation,  "  I  left  them,"  he  says,  "  and  went  about  my 
employment  again."  Thus,  he  did  not  overhear  them,  as 
he  was  mending  kettles  ;  but  was  in  their  company.  He 
might,  therefore,  have  asked  questions  ;  for  the  speakers 
evidently  wished  to  draw  him  out.  They  were  talking  at 
him,  although  not  in  a  wrong  spirit.  They  knew  their 
man  ;  and  gladly  set  themseves,  like  Priscilla  with  Apollos, 
to  teach  him  *'  the  way  of  the  Lord  more  perfectly." 

This  is  the  true  reason  of  their  conduct.  They  were 
not  religious  gossips,  who  would  have  told  their  experience 
to  any  one.     They  were  "  holy  women,"  who  knew  what 


LIFE    OF    BUNVAN.  51 

Bunyaii  had  been  ;  and  what  he  had  become  by  the  reproof 
of  a  bad  woman  ;  and  what  he  was  likely  to  turn  out  if  left 
in  the  hands  of  his  canting  companion,  the  masked  Ranter, 
who  could  talk ''  pleasantly  "  about  religion.  They  knew  this, 
and  took  care  that  he  should  not  have  all  the  talk  to  himself. 

I  am  not  ascribing  to  these  poor  women  more  knowledge 
of  Bunyan  and  his  companion,  nor  more  zeal  for  Bunyan's 
welfare,  than  they  really  possessed :  for  they  were  accre- 
dited Members  of  the  Baptist  Church  in  Bedford  ;  which 
was  then  too  young,  too  small,  and  too  pure,  for  any  of  its 
members  to  overlook  or  neglect  any  returning  Prodigal, 
however  far  off  from  his  Father's  house  ;  or  to  mistake  any 
wolf  in  sheep's  clothing,  however  woolly.  The  honour  of 
religion  was  too  dear  to  the  truly  godly  of  these  times,  for 
that.  And  this  will  be  equally  intelligible  and  credible,  to 
all  who  know  any  thing  of  the  regular  Dissenting  Churches 
of  that  day,  or  of  our  own  times.  All  spiritual  Churches 
episcopize  in  this  way.  Bunyan  did  not  know  this  at  the 
time  :  perhaps  he  never  suspected  it  afterwards,  in  his  own 
case.  But  the  poor  Avomen  certainly  talked  of  themselves, 
that  they  might  teach  him. 

How  well  they  spoke  of  experimental  religion,  will  be 
best  seen  from  his  own  account.  "  Methought,  they  spake 
as  if  jov  did  make  them  speak.  They  spake  with  such 
pleasantness  of  Scripture  language,  and  with  such  appear- 
ance of  grace  in  all  they  said,  that  they  were  to  me,  as  if  I 
had  found  a  new  world  ;  as  if  they  were  '  people  that  dwelt 
alone,  and  were  not  to  be  reckoned  among  their  neighbours.' 
At  this,  I  felt  my  own  heart  began  to  shake,  and  mistrust 
my  condition  to  be  naught :  for  I  saw  that  in  all  my  thoughts 
about  religion  and  salvation,  the  new  birth  did  never  enter 
into  my  mind;  {Nicodemus-like  !)  neither  knew  I  the  comfort 
of  the  word  and  promise,  nor  the  deceitfulness  of  my  own 
wicked  heart.  As  for  secret  thoughts,  I  took  no  notice  of 
them  ;  neither  did  I  understand  what  Satan's  temptations 
were,  nor  how  they  were  to  be  withstood  and  resisted." 


52  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

The  last  part  of  this  confession,  althoiig-h  not  the  most 
interesting,  had  most  to  do  afterwards  with  Bunyan's 
strange  fears  and  fancies  ;  and  I  mark  it  out,  as  another  of 
those  ligJits  which  we  shall  soon  need,  when  he  is  "  led  into 
the  wilderness  to  be  tempted  of  the  devil."  He  did  not 
understand  Satanic  temptation  when  he  first  heard  of  it, 
nor  when  it  began  to  harass  his  mind.  The  Enemy  came 
in  upon  him  *'  as  a  flood  ;"  but  he  saw  only  the  flood  itself, 
and  not  the  Enemy  who  poured  it  around  and  over  him. 

His  ignorance  on  this  point,  however,  did  not  hinder  his 
profiting  by  what  he  had  heard  about  the  religion  of  the 
heart.  That  arrested  and  humbled  him.  It  followed  him 
to  his  work  like  his  shadow ;  nor  did  he  try  to  shake  it  off". 
"  I  left,"  he  says ;  "  but  their  talk  and  discourse  went  loith 
me :  also  my  heart  would  tarry  with  them ;  for  I  was 
greatly  aff'ected  by  their  words  ;  both  because  by  tlieyn 
I  was  convinced  that  I  wanted  the  tokens  of  a  truly  godly 
man,  and  also,  because  by  them  I  was  convinced  of  the 
happy  and  blessed  condition  of  him  that  was  sucli  a  one. 
Therefore,  I  would  often  make  it  my  business  to  be  going 
again  and  again  into  the  company  of  these  poor  people  ; 
for  I  could  not  stay  away.  And  the  more  I  went  among 
them,  the  more  I  did  question  my  condition  :  and,  as  I  still 
remember,  presently,  I  found  two  things  within  me,  at 
which  I  did  sometimes  marvel :  the  one  was,  a  very  great 
softness  and  tenderness  of  heart,  which  caused  me  to  fall 
under  conviction  of  what,  by  Scripture,  they  asserted  ;  and 
the  other  was,  a  great  bending  In  my  mind  to  a  continual 
meditating  on  It,  and  on  all  other  good  things,  which  at  any 
time  I  heard  or  read  of. 

"  By  these  things,  my  mind  was  now  so  turned,  that  it 
lay  like  a  horse-leech  at  the  vein  ;  still  crying  out,  '  Give, 
Give ;'  and  was  so  fixed  on  eternity,  and  on  the  things  of 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  (that  Is,  so  far  as  I  knew  ;  though 
as  yet,  God  knows,  I  knew  but  little),  that  neither  pleasures, 
nor  profits,  nor  persuasions,  nor  threats,  could  loose  It,  or 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  53 

make  it  let  go  its  hold.  And,  though  I  speak  it  with 
shame,  yet  it  is  in  very  deed,  a  certain  truth,  that  it  would 
have  been  as  difficult  for  me  to  have  taken  my  mind  from. 
heaven  to  earth,  as  I  have  found  it  often  since,  to  get  it 
again  from  earth  to  heaven. 

Bunyan  himself  marvelled,  as  he  well  might,  at  this 
child-like  and  angel-like  turn  of  spirit ;  "  especially,"  as  he 
says,  "  considering  what  a  blind,  ignorant,  sordid,  and 
ungodly  wretch,  but  just  before,  I  was."  It  hardly  requires 
spiritual  discernment,  in  order  to  see  beauty  in  this  change. 
Mere  Philosophy,  either  moral  or  mental,  must  admire  it. 
It  is,  indeed,  the  Lion  become  a  lamb  !  How  Mrs.  Bunyan 
must  have  enjoyed  it !  Her  husband  was  now  more  gentle 
and  humble  than  her  father  seems  to  have  been.  Even 
those  who  attach  no  importance  to  the  religion  of  the  heart, 
must  wonder  at  the  change  of  the  Tinker's  heart  ;  it  was 
so  sudden  and  great,  and  yet  so  simple  withal.  His  spirit 
softened  like  furrows  under  spring  showers  ;  and,  like  them, 
soon  sent  forth  "  the  tender  blade."  And  all  this  was 
produced,  not  by  visions  nor  dreams,  but  by  words  which 
dropped  as  the  rain,  and  distilled  as  the  dew,  from  the  lips 
of  simple-hearted  women,  who  used  no  direct  persuasion. 
Christians  see,  of  course,  the  hand  of  God  in  the  effect : 
and  even  a  mere  philosopher  must  confess,  that  he  never 
sees  the  same  effect  produced  by  the  most  eloquent  maxims 
or  appeals  of  his  ethics,  although  he  tries  their  force  upon 
more  cultivated  minds.  True  j  there  was  latent  genius  in 
the  Tinker,  to  work  upon.  What  then  ?  Neither  the 
Tinker  himself,  nor  his  Teachers,  knew  of  it.  They  had 
never  heard  of  genius.  It  was  not  the  less  there,  I  grant. 
Where  was  it,  however,  in  the  women,  who  sat 

"  Knittin^'  in  the  sun?" 

They  had  not  minds  of  Bunyan's  order  :  and  yet,  the  truths 
of  the  Bible  had  the  same  sweet  influence  upon  them. 
Besides,  what  is  philosophy  worth,  as  a  Reformer  of  the 


54  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

world,  if  it  require  genius^  as  the  soil  for  its  seed  to  root 
or  ripen  in  ? 

One  of  the  first-fruits  of  Bunyan's  conversion  was,  a 
tender  concern  for  those  whom  his  former  example  had  misled 
or  hardened.  Having-  found,  therefore,  in  his  own  case, 
how  g-ood  is  a  word  spoken  in  season,  and  in  a  kind  spirit, 
he  began  to  try  the  experiment  upon  others.  He  was, 
however,  very  unsuccessful  in  the  first  instance :  because, 
perhaps,  he  began  too  soon ;  or  before  his  new  spirit  was 
as  much  known  as  his  new  character.  "  There  was  a  young 
man  in  our  town,"  lie  says,  "  to  whom  my  heart,  before, 
was  knit,  more  than  to  any  other :  but  he  being  a  most 
wicked  cjreature,  for  cursing,  and  swearing,  and  whoring, 
I  now  shook  him  off,  and  forsook  his  company :  but  about 
a  quarter  of  a  year  after  I  had  left  him,  I  met  him  in  a 
certain  lane,  and  asked  him  how  he  did.  He,  after  his 
old  swearing  and  mad  way,  answered  he  was  well.  '  But, 
Harry,'  said  I,  '  why  do  you  curse  and  swear  thus  ? 
What  will  become  of  you,  if  you  die  in  this  condi- 
tion ? '  He  answered  me,  in  a  great  chafe,  *  What  would 
the  Devil  do  for  company^  if  it  were  not  for  such  as  I 
am?'" 

This  is,  perhaps — reckless  and  horrible  as  it  is — as  fair 
a  specimen  of  the  spirit  of  the  ungodly  Cavaliers  and  Rois- 
terers of  that  day,  as  could  be  selected.  Many  Round- 
heads were  as  great  rogues  ;  but  they  did  not  thus  glory  in 
their  shame,  nor  laugh  at  the  wrath  to  come.  It  is  not, 
however,  for  the  sake  of  illustrating  this  feature  of  the 
Times,  that  I  quote  the  fact.  I  would  not  have  quoted  it, 
had  it  not  been  the  anecdote  which  revealed  to  me  the  fact, 
that  Bunyan  himself  is  the  speaker  in  the  Life  of  Badman, 
under  the  name  of  Wiseman.  The  anecdote  occurs  in  that 
work,  exactly  as  it  stands  here,  so  far  as  the  point  of  it  is 
concerned.  In  other  respects,  the  only  difference  is,  the 
word  *'  huff"  instead  of  "  chafe."  On  the  Margin  of  the 
old    Editions    there    is,    also,    this    note    of  Bunyan's : — 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  55 

"  The  desperate  words  of  one  H.  S.,  who  once  was  my 
companion.'* 

This  was  a  sore  disappointment  to  Bunyan.  He  says, 
"  I  make  mention  of  him  to  my  shame.  That  young-  man 
was  my  play-fellow,  when  I  was  solacing-  myself  in  my  sins. 
Young  Badman  was  as  like  him  as  an  egg  is  like  an  egg- ; 
and  so  far  as  I  could  ever  gather,  he  lived  and  died  as  Mr. 
Badman  did."  This  was  not  Bunyan's  only  trial  at  the 
time.  He  not  only  strove  in  vain  to  reclaim  others,  but 
had  to  resist  some  who  attempted  to  corrupt  himself. 
"  About  this  time,"  he  says,  "  I  met  with  some  Ranters' 
books  that  were  put  forth  by  some  of  our  countrymen  ; 
which  books  were  also  in  high  esteem  by  several  old  pro- 
fessors." One  of  these  professors  was  the  "  pleasant  Talker 
about  the  matte?'  of  religion,"  whom  I  have  already  branded 
as  a  masked  libertine.  He  now  threw  off  the  mask,  and 
"  gave  himself  up  to  all  manner  of  filthiness,  especially 
uncleanness."  Bunyan  adds  of  him,  "  about  this  time  he 
became  a  most  devilish  Ranter." 

It  will  be  seen  at  once  from  this,  that  the  sect  were  any 
thing  but  what  the  modern  Ranters  are.  The  ranting  of 
the  latter  is  mere  violence  of  language  and  gesticulation,  in 
preaching  and  praying.  In  all  other  respects  they  are,  I 
believe,  exemplary  and  orthodox  :  whereas,  the  old  Ranters 
were  equally  profligate  and  heterodox.  I  do  not  choose  to 
detail  their  creed  or  their  character.  They  were  Familists  ; 
and  whoever  wishes  to  know  their  character,  will  find  its 
original  in  the  Nicolaitans,  and  its  impersonation  in  "  that 
woman  Jezebel,"  mentioned  in  the  epistles  to  the  seven 
Churches  of  Asia.  I  know,  however,  that  it  is  not  justice 
to  Bunyan,  to  give  no  account  of  the  books  of  the  Ranters, 
seeing  he  signalized  his  prudence  by  the  manner  in  which 
he  treated  them.  But  he  can  afford  to  have  less  than  his 
due  in  this  matter  :  whereas,  it  is  not  every  one  who  can 
read  Error  with  safety ;  even  when  the  antidote  is  stronger 
than  the  poison.     Many  of  Doddridge's  students  verified 


56  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

this  fact,  althoug-li  all  the  Error  they  read  was  speculative, 
and  contradicted  equally  by  his  own  devotional  character 
and  evangelical  preaching-. 

Nothing-  exhibits  the  child-like  disposition  of  Bunyan 
more  now,  than  the  recoil  of  his  spirit  from  Antinomianism. 
He  read  both  the  books  and  the  men  that  advocated  the 
system  ;  but  he  shrunk  with  holy  jealousy  from  the  former, 
and  with  loathing-  disg-ust  from  the  latter.  He  could  not 
answer  their  arguments ;  but  he  prayed  against  their  influ- 
ence. "  I  was  not  able,"  he  says,  "  to  make  any  judg-ment 
about  them  :  wherefore,  as  I  read  them,  and  thought  upon 
them,  seeing  myself  unable  to  judge,  I  would  betake  myself 
to  hearty  prayer  in  this  manner :  '  O  Lord,  I  am  a  fool, 
and  not  able  to  know  the  truth  from  error.  Lord,  leave 
me  not  to  my  own  blindness,  either  to  approve  of,  or  con- 
demn this  doctrine.  If  it  be  of  God,  let  me  not  despise  it ; 
if  it  be  of  the  devil,  let  me  not  embrace  it.  Lord,  I  lay  my 
soul  in  this  matter  only  at  thy  foot :  let  me  not  be  deceived, 
I  humbly  beseech  thee.'  " 

We  feel  instinctively,  that  such  prayer  was  sure  to  be 
answered  by  God.  "  The  Meek  will  He  guide  in  judg- 
ment." "  If  any  man  do  his  will,  he  shall  know  of  the 
doctrine,  whether  it  be  of  God."  Bunyan  verified  these 
promises  at  the  time ;  and  afterwards  set  to  his  seal,  that 
God  is  true.  "  Blessed  be  God,"  he  says,  "  who  put  it 
into  my  heart  to  cry  to  him,  to  be  kept  and  directed ;  still 
distrusting  my  own  wisdom.  For  I  have  seeyi  since,  even 
the  effects  of  that  prayer,  in  His  preserving  me,  not  only 
from  Ranting  errors,  but  from  those  also  that  have  sprung 
up  since."  He  did  more,  however,  than  pray  for  preserva- 
tion. He  also  shook  off  his  old  companion,  the  Ranter. 
That  man  had  gone  on  from  bad  to  worse,  until  he  laughed 
at  all  truth  and  duty.  "  Wherefore,"  says  Bunyan,  "  abomi- 
nating these  cursed  principles,  I  left  his  company  forthwith, 
and  became  to  him  as  great  a  stranger,  as  I  had  been  before 
a  familiar."     No  wonder  \  the  last  words  of  the  wretch  to 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  57 

Bunyan,  accompanied  with  loud  laug-liter  at  his  own  wicked- 
ness, were,  "  that  he  had  gone  through  all  religions,  and 
could  never  hit  upon  the  right  till  now  ;  and  that  all 
professors  would  turn  in  a  little  time  to  the  ways  of  the 
Ranters."    On  this,  they  parted  to  meet  no  more,  for  ever. 

Bunyan's  danger  was  not  over,  however,  when  he  shook 
off  this  Viper  from  his  hand.  He  was  still  a  travelling 
Tinker,  and  could  not  often  choose  his  company,  nor  change 
the  subject  of  conversation,  when  he  was  from  home.  He 
was  thus  thrown  amongst  Ranters  occasionally,  by  his  Craft. 
He  also  found,  here  and  there  in  the  County,  men  whom 
he  had  formerly  known  as  "  strict  in  religion,  drawn  away  " 
to  Antinomianism.  But  still,  the  pans  and  kettles  of  both 
required  mending  as  usual,  and  he  could  not  afford  to  refuse 
a  job.  He  had  thus  to  listen  to  the  "  sounding  brass  "  of 
Antinomians,  whilst  soldering  their  culinary  brass.  "  They 
would  tell  me,"  he  says,  *'  of  their  ways,  and  condemn  me 
as  legal  and  dark :  pretending  that  those  only  had  attained 
to  perfection,  that  could  do  what  they  ivould,  and  not 
sin." 

This  "  bestial  herd,"  as  Dr.  Southey  justly  calls  them,  were 
not  produced,  however,  as  he  unjustly  insinuates,  by 
"  Baxter  and  other  erring,  though  good  men,"  who  mar- 
velled "  at  mischief  which  never  would  have  been  effected, 
if  they  had  not  mainly  assisted  in  it."  True  ;  Baxter  said 
when  he  saw  it,  "  We  intended  not  to  dig  down  the  banks,  or 
pull  up  the  hedge,  and  lay  all  waste  and  common,  when  we 
desired  the  Prelates'  tyranny  might  cease."  Baxter,  how- 
ever, never  regretted  the  downfall  of  that  tyranny  itself, 
nor  ever  thought  that  such  Prelacy  would  have  preserved 
either  the  morals  or  the  maxims  of  the  Reformation. 
Besides,  if  the  Puritans  are  to  be  held  accountable  for  the 
monstrosities  of  the  Common- Wealth,  the  Prelatists  must 
answer  for  the  wider-spread  enormities  of  the  Restoration. 
Bunyan  saw  both,  and  spared  neither,  as  we  shall  see  by 
and  by. 


58  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

He  felt  deeply,  and  has  told  frankly,  the  seductive  power 
of  Antinomianism,  as  it  then  appealed  to  his  passions.  "  Oh 
these  temptatioyis  /"  he  exclaims ;  "  I  being  but  a  young- 
man,  and  my  nature  in  its  prime."  It  deserves  special 
notice  here,  that  he  ascribed  to  a  hope  that  God  had  de- 
signed him  ^^for  better  things^"  the  strength  of  that  godly 
fear,  by  which  he  was  kept  from  embracing  "  the  cursed 
principles  "  of  the  Ranters. 

He  verified,  also,  at  this  time,  in  his  own  experience, 
the  truth  of  David's  answer  to  the  question,  *'  Wherewithal 
shall  a  young  man  cleanse  his  way  ?  By  taking  heed  thereto 
according  to  thy  Word."  Never  did  young  or  old  man  take 
better  heed  to  this  rule  than  Bunyan  did,  whether  travelling 
or  at  home.  "  The  Bible,"  he  says,,  "  was  precious  to  me 
in  those  days.  I  began,  methought,  to  look  into  the 
Bible  with  neiv  eyes  ;  and  read  as  I  never  did  before  ;  and 
especially  the  epistles  of  the  apostle  St.  Paul  were  sweet 
and  pleasant  to  me.  And,  indeed,  I  was  7iever  out  of  the 
Bible,  either  by  reading  or  meditation  :  still  crying  out  to 
God,  that  I  might  know  the  truth  and  way  to  heaven  and 
glory." 

Now  his  readmg  became  impartial,  and  for  the  riglit 
purpose.  And  yet,  even  at  this  time,  that  cast  of  his  mind, 
which  I  have  already  hinted  at,  showed  itself.  Both  the 
marvellous  and  the  mystical,  had  peculiar  charms  to  him. 
He  even  preferred  the  abstract  to  the  simple  and  plain, 
except  where  practical  duty  was  concerned.  Hence,  instead 
of  taking  his  views  of  faith  from  the  definitions  of  Paul  or 
John,  he  took  them  first  from  Paul's  catalogue  of  the  mira- 
culous or  extraordinary  gifts  of  the  Spirit ;  where  faith  has 
evidently  and  certainly  the  same  reference  to  the  Miraculous, 
which  Tongues  or  Prophecy  had.      1  Cor.  xii.  9. 

There  is,  also,  in  connexion  with  his  peculiar  mind, 
something  suspicious  in  the  very  way  he  speaks  of  search- 
ing the  Scriptures.  Instead  of  saying,  he  met  with  such  a 
passage,  he  says,  he  hit  upon  it ;  and  he  evidently  regarded 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  59 

it  as  a  "  happy  hit."  A  mind  of  this  order,  without  a  guide, 
is  sure  to  miss,  and  that  widely,  at  times.  Accordingly, 
Bunyan's  first  notions  of  faith  were  equally  vague  and 
visionary. 

"  As  I  went  on  and  read,"  he  says,  "  1  hit  upon  that  pas- 
sage, *  To  one  is  given  by  the  Spirit,  the  word  of  wisdom, 
to  another  the  word  of  knowledge,  by  the  same  Spirit ;  and 
to  another  faith,'  &c.  On  this  I  mused,  and  could  not 
tell  what  to  do  :  especially  this  word  faith  put  me  to  it ! 
for  I  could  not  help  it ;  but  sometimes  must  question, 
whether  I  had  faith  or  no.  But  I  was  loath  to  conclude 
I  had  no  faith  ;  for  if  I  do  so,  thought  I,  then  I  shall  count 
myself  a  very  castaway  indeed."  This  was  wisely  resolved  ; 
but  unwisely  reasoned.  "  No,"  said  I  to  myself,  "  though  I 
am  convinced  that  I  am  an  ignorant  sot,  and  that  I  want 
those  blessed  gifts  of  knowledge  and  understanding  that 
other  people  have,  yet,  at  a  vefiture,  I  will  conclude,  I  am 
not  altogether  faithless,  though  1  know  not  what  faith  is." 
He  made  this  venture,  because  he  was  "  loath  to  fall  quite 
into  despair."  Thus  he  never  thought  of  asking  himself, 
ivhat  he  believed.  That  was  too  plain  a  question  for  his 
taste  ;  too  simple  a  path  for  his  feet.  Accordingly,  he  saw 
no  faith  in  his  cordial  belief  of  the  Truth,  although  he  loved 
the  Truth  so  far  as  he  knew  it.  There  was  no  perverseness 
of  heart  in  this  mistake.  It  sprang  from  sheer  ignorance, 
and  the  fear  of  taking  up  with  a  mere  nominal  faith.  He 
saw  that  those  who  ''  conclude  themselves  in  a  faithless 
state,  have  neither  rest  nor  quiet  in  their  souls  ;"  and 
therefore  he  was  afraid  to  meet  the  question  fairly,  in  his 
own  case,  lest  he  should  be  driven  into  despair :  for  he  saw 
"  for  certain,"  that  if  he  had  not  faith,  he  was  "  sure  to 
perish  for  ever."  This,  he  says,  made  him  "  afraid  to  see 
his  want  of  faith,"  although  he  strongly  suspected  he  had 
none.  He  could  not  rest  long,  however,  upon  what  he 
well  calls  "  the  blind  coyiclusion,"  that  he  was  "  not  alto- 
gether faithless,"  even  although  ignorant  of  what  faith  is. 


60 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


His  acute  understanding  shrank  from  this  absurdity  with 
shame,  even  whilst  his  aching  heart  clung  to  it  with  fond- 
ness. "  I  could  not  rest  content,"  he  says,  "  until  I  did 
now  come  to  some  certain  knowledge,  whether  I  had  faith 
or  no  :  this  always  running  in  my  mind.  But  what  if  you 
want  faith  indeed  ?  How  can  you  tell  you  have  faith  ? 
So  that,  though  I  endeavoured  at  first  to  look  over  (to 
overlook)  the  business  of  faith,  yet  in  a  little  time,  I  better 
considering  the  matter,  was  willing  to  put  myself  upon  trials 
whether  I  had  faith  or  no."  The  honesty  of  this  resolu- 
tion is  as  delightful  as  its  imprudence  is  glaring.  In  after 
years,  however,  he  himself  thought  only  of  its  rashness. 
"  Alas,  poor  wretch,"  he  says  of  himself,  "  so  ignorant  and 
brutish  was  I,  that  I  knew  not  (then)  any  more  how  to  do  it, 
than  I  know  how  to  begin  and  accomplish  that  rare  and 
curious  piece  of  art  which  I  never  yet  saw  or  considered." 
This  is  his  own  preface  to  his  own  account  of  that  trial 
of  his  faith,  to  which  he  was  now  about  to  subject  himself. 
That  account,  therefore,  ludicrous  as  it  is,  will  not  turn 
the  laugh  against  him,  except  on  the  face  of  witlings  :  for  he 
would  have  acted  wisely,  if  he  had  only  known  how  to  do 
so.  He  himself  claims  credit  for  himself  thus  far  ;  and  says, 
"  You  must  know  that,  as  yet,  I  had  not  in  this  matter 
broken  my  mind  to  any  one  :  only  did  hear  and  consider." 
Besides,  he  had  no  suspicion  at  the  time,  that  Satan  had 
anything  to  do  with  anything  which  was  well  meant  in  re- 
ligion. What  he  says  about  the  Tempter,  in  the  following 
story,  is  not  what  he  thought  during  the  temptation ;  but 
his  final  judgment,  when  he  knew  better.  "  Being  put  to 
aplunge,"  he  says,  "  the  Tempter  came  in  with  this  delusion, 
that  there  was  no  way  for  me  to  know  I  had  faith,  but  by 
trying  to  work  some  Miracles  ;  urging  those  Scriptures 
that  seem  to  look  that  way,  for  the  enforcing  and  strength- 
ening his  temptation.  Nay,  one  day,  as  I  was  between 
Elstow  and  Bedford,  the  temptation  was  hot  upon  me  to 
try  if  I  had  faith,  by  doing  some  miracle  :  which  miracle 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  61 

was  this  ;  I  must  say  to  the  puddles  that  were  in  the 
horse-pads^  Be  dry  ;  and  to  the  dry  places,  Be  you  puddles  ! 
And  truly,  one  time,  I  was  going  to  say  this,  indeed.  But 
just  as  I  was  about  to  speak,  this  thought  came  into  my 
mind, — But  go  under  yonder  hedge,  and  pray  first,  that 
God  would  make  you  able.  But  when  I  had  concluded  to 
pray,  this  came  hot  upon  me, — that  if  I  prayed,  and  came 
again,  and  tried  to  do  it,  and  yet  did  nothing  notwithstand- 
ing ;  then  to  be  sure,  I  had  no  faith,  but  was  a  castaivay, 
and  lost.  Nay,  thought  I,  if  it  be  so,  I  will  not  try  yet, 
but  will  stay  a  little  longer.  So  I  continued  at  a  great  loss  ; 
for,  thought  I,  if  they  only  have  faith,  who  could  do  such 
iconderful  things,  then,  I  concluded,  that  for  the  present  I 
neither  had  it,  nor  for  the  time  to  come  were  ever  likely 
to  have  it.  Thus  I  was  tossed  betwixt  the  devil  and  my 
own  ignorance  ;  and  so  perplexed,  especially  at  some  times, 
that  I  could  not  tell  what  to  do." 

There  is  a  strange  mixture  of  rashness  and  prudence  in 
all  this,  and  a  still  stranger  oversight  of  the  character  of 
the  only  Believers  he  knew  ;  the  poor  women,  whose  expe- 
rience he  had  heard  and  admired.  They  had  said  nothing 
about  "  miracles,"  or  "  wonderful  things,"  even  when  they 
spoke  as  \i  joy  did  make  them  speak  ;  and  he  had  no  doubt 
of  the  genuineness  of  their  faith.  Yet,  all  this  he  forgot, 
or  overlooked :  another  proof  of  the  tendency  of  his  mind 
to  take  up  with  the  abstracty  rather  than  the  obvious,  in 
any  subject  which  regarded  himself.  Even  this,  is  not  saying 
enough  of  his  peculiarity.  His  mind  fixed  upon  Miracles 
as  the  test  of  faith,  although  he  had  never  heard  of  such  a 
test :  for  with  all  the  pretences  and  vagaries  of  his  Times, 
our  own  have  been  more  rife  with  miracle-mongers.  There 
were  no  Tongue-shops,  even  among  Oliver's  gifted  cohorts. 
It  remained  for  metropolitan  episcopalians,  two  centuries 
afterwards,  to  play  the  fool  in  this  way,  in  a  Scotch  Kirk. 
I  mention  these  things,  merely  in  order  to  fix  attention 
upon  the  capriciousness  of  Bunyan's  modes  of  thinking. 


62  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

even  when  he  began  to  think  for  eternity.  Then,  from 
sheer  dread  of  erring,  he  often  argued  "  without  rhyme  or 
reason."  Even  his  reveries,  or  day-dreams,  were  wiser 
than  his  deliberations.  The  former  were  vivid  and  fanciful : 
the  latter  were  liot  and  morbid. 

One  of  the  former  has  in  it,  what  Dr.  Southey  calls, 
"  the  germ  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  ;"  and  Conder,  "  the 
germinating  of  that  imagination  which  was  afterwards  to 
ripen  into  genius."  Both  Critics  are  right :  but  I  quote  it 
as  the  germ  of  that  piety^  which  ripened  into  sound  theology 
and  the  beauties  of  holiness  ;  because  this  was  the  light  in 
which  Bunyan  himself  viewed  it,  and  his  chief  reason  for 
telling  it  so  well.  It  was  this.  "  About  this  time,  the 
state  and  happiness  of  these  poor  people  at  Bedford  was 
thus,  in  a  kind  of  a  vision,  presented  to  me.  I  saw  as  if  they 
were  on  the  sunny  side  of  some  high  mountain,  there 
refreshing  themselves  with  the  pleasant  beams  of  the  sun, 
while  I  was  shivering  and  shrinking  in  the  cold,  afflicted 
with  frost,  snow  and  dark  clouds  :  Methought  also,  betwixt 
me  and  them,  I  saw  a  wall  that  did  compass  about  this 
mountain  :  now  through  this  wall  my  soul  did  greatly  desire 
to  pass ;  concluding,  that  if  I  could,  I  would  even  go  into 
the  very  midst  of  them,  and  there  also  comfort  myself  with 
the  heat  of  their  sun. 

*'  About  this  wall  I  bethought  myself,  to  go  again  and 
again,  still  prying  as  I  went,  to  see  if  I  could  find  some 
way  or  passage,  by  which  I  might  enter  therein ;  but  none 
could  I  find  for  some  time  :  At  the  last,  I  saw,  as  it  were, 
a  narrow  gap,  like  a  little  door-way  in  the  wall,  through 
which  I  attempted  to  pass  :  Now  the  passage  being  very 
strait  and  narrow,  I  made  many  efforts  to  get  in,  but  all 
in  vain,  even  until  I  was  well  nigh  quite  beat  out,  by 
striving  to  get  in  ;  at  last,  with  great  sideling,  my  shoulders, 
and  my  whole  body  got  in ;  then  I  was  exceedingly  glad, 
went  and  sat  down  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  so  was  com- 
forted with  the  light  and  heat  of  their  sun. 


LIFE  OF  BUNYAN.  63 

"  Now  this  mountain  and  wall,  &c.  was  thus  made  out 
to  me :  The  mountain  signified  the  church  of  the  living- 
God  :  the  sun  that  shone  thereon,  the  comfortable  shining 
of  his  merciful  face  on  them  that  were  therein ;  the  wall  I 
thought  was  the  word,  that  did  make  separation  between 
the  Christians  and  the  world ;  and  the  gap  which  was  in 
the  wall,  I  thought,  was  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  the  way  to 
God  the  Father.  For  Jesus  said  in  his  reply  to  ThoniLS, 
'  I  am  the  way^  and  the  truth  and  the  life,  no  man  cometh 
to  the  Father  hut  hy  7ne.  Because  strait  is  the  gate  and 
narrow  is  the  way  which  leadeth  unto  life,  and  few  there  he 
that  find  it'  John  xiv. ;  Matt.  vii.  14.  But  forasmuch 
as  the  passage  was  wonderful  narrow,  even  so  narrow  that 
I  could  not,  but  with  great  difficulty,  enter  in  thereat,  it 
showed  me,  that  none  could  enter  into  life  but  those  that 
were  in  downright  earnest,  and  unless  also  they  left  that 
wicked  world  behind  them  ;  for  here  was  only  room  for 
body  and  soul,  but  not  for  body  and  soul  and  sin. 

"  This  resemblance  abode  upon  my  spirit  many  days ; 
all  which  time  I  saw  myself  in  a  forlorn  and  sad  condition, 
but  yet  was  provoked  to  a  vehement  hunger  and  desire  to 
be  one  of  that  number  that  did  sit  in  the  sunshine :  Now 
also  should  I  pray  wherever  I  was ;  whether  at  home  or 
abroad,  in  house  or  field ;  and  would  also  often,  with 
lifting  up  of  heart,  sing  that  of  the  fifty-first  Psalm,  *  O 
Lord,  consider  my  distress  ;'  for  as  yet  I  knew  not  where 
it  was." 

It  will  not  lessen  the  impression  made  by  this  "  dream 
and  the  interpretation  thereof,"  to  notice  how  naturally  it 
grew  out  of  the  real  interview  he  had  with  the  poor  women 
in  the  street  at  Bedford.  They  were  sitting  "  in  the  sun,'* 
when  he  first  saw  them ;  and  accordingly  they  appear  in 
vision  on  the  sunny  side  of  a  high  mountain.  The  "  wall  " 
also,  is  just  a  material  form  of  the  ignorance  and  fear  he 
felt,  whilst  listening  to  them  :  and  the  "  narrow  gap,"  just 
the  slight  glimpse  he  had  of  part  of  their  meaning.     But 


64  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

whilst  this  is  true,  it  is  not  all  the  truth.  What  must  his 
mind  have  been,  seeing-  it  could  thus  throw  into  forms  of 
power  and  glory,  such  simple  and  common-place  realities  ? 
And  yet,  we  shall  "  see  greater  things  than  these,"  from 
even  smaller  materials. 

Bunyan  remembered  this  dream  and  its  interpretation, 
when  he  wrote  his  "  Solomon's  Temple  Spiritualized." 
Speaking  there  of  the  gate  of  the  Porch  of  the  temple, 
which,  although  six  cubits  wide,  was  yet  accounted  too 
narrow,  because  of  the  cumber  some  men  would  carry  with 
them,  that  pretend  to  be  going  to  heaven,  he  exclaims, 
"  Six  cubits !  What  is  sixteen  cubits,  to  him  who  would 
enter  with  all  the  world  on  his  back  ?  The  young  man  in 
the  Gospels,  who  made  such  a  noise  for  heaven,  might  have 
gone  in  easy  enough :  for  in  six  cubits  there  is  room ;  but, 
poor  man,  he  was  not  for  going  in  thither,  unless  he  might 
carry  his  houses  upon  his  back ;  and  so  the  gate  was  too 
strait."  Bunyan  had  "  put  away  childish  things,"  and 
*'  become  a  man,"  when  he  wrote  thus.  We  must,  how- 
ever, review  his  childish  things  first,  and  make  due 
allowances  for  them. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  65 


CHAPTER  VII. 


BUNYAN  S    CONFLICTS. 


He  is  a  very  unfeeling  man,  even  if  not  a  parent,  who  can 
witness  without  emotion  or  sympathy  the  sufferings  of  an 
infant.  These  are  many  and  varied,  even  in  the  case  of 
a  healthy  child.  Hardly  any  of  its  faculties  or  functions 
develop  themselves  without  pain,  and  none  of  them  rapidly. 
The  strongest  babe  is  thus  but  a  tender  plant  for  a  long 
time.  Nothing,  therefore,  is  more  unseemly,  than  to  find 
fault  with  the  screams  of  a  mere  infant,  or  to  remain 
unmoved  by  its  tears  and  wailing.  If,  however,  he  who 
can  do  so  be  an  unfeeling  man,  he  who  could  wish  Infancy 
free  from  all  its  sufferings,  is  anything  but  a  wise  man. 
Mothers  have,  indeed,  much  to  endure,  and  fathers  some- 
thing, from  the  succession  of  complaints  incident  to  child- 
hood ;  but  both  would  have  to  go  through  much  more 
trouble,  if  their  children  acquired  strength  of  body  at  once, 
or  before  they  had  mind  enough  to  regulate  the  employment 
of  bodily  strength.  In  that  case,  their  blow  or  their  bite 
would  be  a  more  serious  thing  than  their  cries.  And  if 
they  could  talk  and  reason  from  the  first,  they  would  be 
more  tiresome  than  even  fretfulness  makes  them. 

It  would  be  ludicrous  as  well  as  useless  to  illustrate  the 
supposition  of  a  mature  child.  Absurd  as  it  is,  however, 
it  is  hardly  more  absurd  than  the  expectation,  that  a  recent 
convert  should  be  wise,  settled,  or  happy,  in  religion,  all  at 
once.  The  Apostles  thought  otherwise  :  and  treated  their 
converts  as  but  "  babes  in  Christ,"  at  first.     Christ  himself 


66  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

thoug-lit  otherwise,  and  provided  for  the  weakness  of  his 
lambs,  as  well  as  for  the  wants  of  his  sheep.  He  did  not 
teach  even  his  Apostles  every  thing  at  once  ;  but  only  as 
they  could  "  bear"  from  time  to  time.  Accordingly,  they 
thought  and  said  many  things,  at  first,  which  were  both 
unwise  and  wayward ;  rash  and  silly.  Christ  did  not 
prevent  this.  He  did  not  render  it  impossible,  nor  did  he 
countenance  it ;  but  he  permitted  it.  The  fact  is,  the 
Apostles  needed  as  much  to  know  themselves — their  own 
hearts,  tendencies,  and  dispositions — as  His  doctrine.  It 
was  only  as  they  knew  themselves,  that  they  could  appre- 
ciate or  improve  it.  And  the  case  is  not  much  altered  yet. 
No  convert  talks  nothing  but  good  sense  at  first.  Every 
Christian  has  his  childhood,  during  which  he  both  thinks 
and  says  childish  things,  and  gives  way  to  childish  hopes 
and  fears. 

He  is  no  Philosopher,  who  can  laugh  at  this  weakness. 
It  is  indeed  weak  to  suspect  the  worst ;  or  to  look  chiefly 
at  the  dark  side  of  appearances ;  or  to  conclude  that  all  is 
Avrong  or  useless,  because  nothing  is  fully  right  or  ripe  at 
once.  It  is  even  not  a  little  wayward  to  raise  a  hut  in  the 
midst  of  the  Promises,  and  especially  to  set  either  the 
severity  or  the  sovereignty  of  God  "  over  all "  his  perfec- 
tions, purposes,  and  plans  \  seeing  He  has  set  his  "  tender 
Mercies  over  all  his  works.'*  This  sad  reversing  of  the 
order  of  His  *"  well  ordered  Covenant,"  by  a  disordered 
imagination,  or  by  a  doubtful  mind,  is  a  painful  sight  to  a 
well  informed  man,  and  a  puzzling,  if  not  a  repulsive  sight, 
to  a  man  who  cares  little  about  religion.  The  former  has 
no  patience  with  such  dark  surmises,  and  the  latter  turns 
the  suspicions  and  the  fears  of  the  timid  into  objection.-; 
against  religion  itself.  Both  treat  the  case  unfairly.  It  is 
a  case  of  spiritual  infancy,  in  general ;  and  often  aggravated 
in  its  weakness,  by  ill  health  or  low  spirits.  It  is  not, 
however,  a  bad  thing  for  any  man  to  go  through  some 
process   and   degree  of   mental   anxiety,  at  his   outset  in 


LIFE  OF  BUNYAN.  67 

religion.  He  would  not  be  a  better  nor  a  wiser  man, 
without  it.  Besides,  it  is  inevitable.  Personal  religion  is 
more  than  a  new  line  of  moral  conduct.  It  is  that ;  but 
it  is  also  a  new  train  of  ideas,  desires,  and  motives.  It  is 
a  new  line  of  conduct  chosen  for  new  reasons,  and  pursued 
for  eternal  results.  The  mind  cannot,  therefore,  adjust 
itself  at  once,  to  so  much  that  is  new,  noble,  and  solemn. 
It  is  thrown  inevitably  at  first,  into  some  confusion,  as  well 
as  ferment,  by  the  vastness  and  variety  of  eternal  things. 
To  wonder  at  this,  is  worse  than  foolish.  Why  \  any  great 
change  of  temporal  circumstances,  or  even  a  transition  from 
a  small  trade  to  a  great  one,  will  throw  the  mind  into  both 
ferment  and  confusion.  But,  who  wonders  at  this  ?  No 
one.  All  men  would  wonder  at  the  man  who  could  descend 
unmoved  from  the  top  to  the  bottom  of  the  Ladder  of  life, 
and  at  the  man  who  could  ascend  unmoved  from  the  bottom 
to  the  top.  Allowances  are  made  for  both,  even  if  both 
are  not  a  little  at  their  wits'  end ;  the  former  by  too  much 
fear,  and  the  latter  by  too  much  hope.  I  have  seen  more 
men  at  their  wits'  end  by  worldly  embarrassments,  than  I 
ever  saw  by  spiritual ;  and  few  have  been  brought  into 
wider  contact  than  myself  with  the  inmates  of  the  cells 
and  wards  of  Doubting  Castle.  Who  has  not  seen  men  on 
'Change  and  at  their  desks,  as  much  confused,  and  agitated, 
and  panic-struck,  by  the  vicissitudes  of  Trade,  as  Bunyan 
was  by  the  vicissitudes  of  religious  hope  and  fear  ?  I  do 
not  plead  nor  apologize  for  all  his  hot  or  cold  fits  in 
religion ;  but  whilst  both  hot  and  cold  fits  are  so  common 
in  Trade,  I  will  not  silently  hear  him  called  fool  or  fanatic. 
His  mind  just  wrought  at  first  amongst  a  crowed  of  new- 
ideas  and  desires,  as  the  minds  of  young  and  old  Brokers 
and  Merchants  work  amidst  the  stagnations  or  revolutions 
of  the  market.  It  will,  therefore,  be  quite  time  enough  for 
the  world  to  fling  gibes  at  the  confusion  and  anguish  of 
timid  and  tempted  Christians,  when  her  own  Bankers  and 
Brokers,    Shipowners    and    Merchants,    take    panics    and 


68  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

reports  coolly.  In  like  manner,  it  ought  not  to  be  a  very 
amazing  thing  in  a  world  where  Returned  Bills  and  Bad 
Debts  make  men  sleepless  for  a  time,  if  unanswered  prayers, 
or  unsuccessful  struggles  to  "  keep  the  heart  right  with 
God,"  create  some  wearisome  nights  and  days  to  recent 
converts. 

Those  who  thus  "  live  in  glass  houses  should  not  be 
hasty  in  throwing  stones  "  at  others.  Some  of  the  stones 
thrown  at  melancholy  and  morbid  Christians,  rebound  with 
tremendous  force  upon  the  victims  of  misfortune  and 
treachery.  Quite  as  many  of  them  sink  or  rave  under 
their  calamities.  Far  more  settle  into  melancholy,  or  rush 
to  desperation,  by  worldly  losses,  than  by  religious  mistakes 
or  disappointments.  Besides,  if  it  be  any  objection  against 
Religion,  that  some  of  its  ill  informed  and  raw  recruits  are 
very  unhappy  for  a  short  time  at  their  outset  in  the  divine 
life,  what  should  be  said  of  Irreligion  and  Infidelity? 
Even  their  veterans  die  as  fools  or  as  maniacs.  Voltaire, 
Hume,  and  Paine,  raved  and  trembled  far  more  at  the 
close  of  their  life,  than  Bunyan  did  at  the  commencement 
of  his  piety.  Now  although  "  two  blacks  do  not  make  a 
white"  one  black  may  be  blacker  than  another.  Accord- 
ingly, the  blackest  list  of  mental  sufferings,  and  hopeless 
sorrows,  is  in  the  world,  not  in  the  Church.  It  is  "  the 
sorrow  of  the  world,  that  worketh  death,"  madness,  and 
melancholy,  upon  a  large  scale. 

I  do  not  wish  to  aggravate  my  reprisals,  nor  to  retort 
with  all  the  severity  which  facts  would  warrant.  I  readily 
grant,  that  the  victims  of  worldly  sorrow  take  wrong  views 
of  the  world,  both  when  they  sink  and  when  they  rave 
under  its  calamities.  He  has  not  the  heart  of  a  Christian, 
who  refuses  to  concede  this.  In  like  manner,  he  has  not 
the  head  of  a  Philosopher,  who  refuses  or  neglects  to 
acknowledge,  that  all  religious  despair,  despondency,  and 
extravagance,  springs  from  wrong  views  of  Religion 
itself. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  69 

Now,  that  mistakes  should  be  made  in  Religion  is,  to 
say  the  least,  not  more  surprising  than  that  they  are  made 
in  business,  or  in  friendships,  or  in  partnerships.  Who 
wonders  that  either  a  very  rash,  or  a  very  timid  man,  to 
whom  business  is  a  new  thing,  and  the  world  unknown, 
should  form  unwise  connexions,  or  embark  in  plausible 
speculations,  or  become  the  dupe  and  victim  of  sharpers  ? 
Nothing  else  is,  or  is  to  be,  expected,  when  men  ignorant 
of  the  world  begin  to  act  in  it.  Very  few,  however,  are 
so  ignorant  of  human  nature,  or  of  public  business,  when 
they  begin  active  life,  as  the  generality  are  of  the  Gospel 
when  they  begin  a  godly  life.  Far  fewer  are  brought  up 
to  the  religion  of  the  Bible,  than  to  business.  All  the  real 
knowledge  of  the  generality,  up  to  the  time  of  their  being 
drawn  or  driven  to  think  seriously  about  eternal  salvation, 
is,  that  they  ought  to  be  good,  and  to  attend  public  worship, 
and  to  say  their  prayers.  There  is  but  very  little  more 
than  this  in  the  creed  of  most :  for  their  vague  and  vapid 
notions  about  the  merits  of  Christ,  amount  neither  to  faith 
or  knowledge.  They  are  mere  forms  of  sound  words,  and 
not  often  that.  It  is,  therefore,  not  only  not  to  be  won- 
dered at,  but  only  what  might  be  expected,  that  minds  thus 
ill  informed  should  be  ill  at  ease,  when  they  begin  to  dis- 
cover in  the  Bible,  that  sin  is  an  evil  which  only  the  Son  of 
God  could  atone  for ;  that  the  heart  is  a  stone  which  only 
the  Spirit  of  God  can  soften  ;  that  pardon  and  eternal  life 
are  blessings  which  good  works  can  neither  merit  nor  buy. 
This  new  world  of  iclcaSf  is  not  likely  to  be  a  bright  world 
of  feelings  at  first,  to  a  man  who  never  studied  the  worth 
or  the  wants  of  his  soul.  His  mere  consciousness  of  having 
neglected  his  soul  for  years,  forces  upon  him  the  questions — 
But  2vill  God,  or  the  Saviour,  or  the  Sanctifier,  show 
mercy  to  a  soul  upon  which  I  bestowed  no  care  ?  Will 
they  pardon  or  pity  one  who  has  so  long  trifled  with  both 
their  Mercy  and  Justice  ?  May  they  not  treat  me  as  I 
have  treated  them  ?     If  not,  ivht/  not  ? 


70  •  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Now  very  few  can  answer  these  questions  at  first.  The 
Gospel,  indeed,  contains  explicit  and  delightful  answers  to 
them  all :  but  nothing  is  less  known  than  the  Gospel,  by 
the  generality  when  they  begin  to  care  for  their  souls. 
Even  those  who  know  something  of  it  as  a  scheme  of 
salvation  by  grace  and  through  faith,  have  little  or  no  idea, 
at  first,  that  believing  it  is  faith.  They  usually  mean  by 
faith,  something  more  difficult,  and  less  within  their  power, 
than  even  the  best  of  good  works.  Instead,  therefore,  of 
its  being  a  wonder  that  so  many  are  frightened  or  confused, 
when  they  begin  to  grapple  in  good  earnest  with  the  ques- 
tion of  acceptance  with  God,  the  wonder  is  that  so  few  are 
gravelled  by  it,  or  that  a  Bunyan  is  a  rarity. 

Besides,  were  the  Gospel  well  known  to  every  one,  no 
one  knows  himself  well  at  first,  in  reference  to  religion. 
Now  self-knowledge  is  just  as  much  wanted  as  scriptural 
knowledge :  and  as  nothing  can  teach  the  former  but 
Experience  in  any  case,  and  bitter  Experience  in  most 
cases,  it  is  wisely  ordered  that  all  shall  suffer  more  or  less, 
for  a  time,  from  fears  and  temptations.  They  thus  learn 
(what  neither  Reason  nor  Conscience  suggests)  that  their 
own  hearts  are  not  to  be  trusted,  nor  their  own  resolutions 
to  be  depended  upon.  They  discover  also  (for  it  is  a 
discovery)  that  they  are  quite  capable  of  going  into  opinions 
and  presumptions,  which,  if  not  checked  by  the  healthful 
Spirit  of  truth,  grace,  and  holiness,  would  land  them  in 
impiety  or  scepticism.  It  is,  therefore,  a  good  thing  for 
any  man  to  get  a  sight,  by  any  means,  of  his  own  heart. 
No  man  would  or  could  believe  the  extent  of  its  alienation 
from  God,  without  being  left  iQ  feel  it  now  and  then.  For 
as  it  is  only  sickness  or  danger,  which  can  bring  home  to 
us  a  practical  sense  of  our  weakness  and  mortality,  so  it  is 
only  Experience  which  can  make  us  afraid  of  our  own 
hearts. 

I  have  been  led  into  these  considerations  by  a  remark  of 
Bishop  Butler's,  which  throws  more  light  upon  the  infancy 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  71 

of  Internal  Religion,  than  the  crucifix  he  set  up  in  the 
palace-chapel  of  Durham  (from  which  the  crucifix  wasjirst 
removed  by  an  ancestor  of  my  family)  did  on  "  The 
Importance  of  External  Religion  :" — "  If  we  suppose/'  he 
says  in  his  Analogy,  (p.  107)  "  a  person  brought  into  the 
world  with  both  body  and  mind  in  maturity  (as  far  as  this 
is  conceivable),  he  would  plainly,  at  first,  be  as  unqualified 
for  the  business  of  life  as  an  Idiot.  He  would  be  in  a 
manner  distracted  with  astonishment,  and  apprehension, 
and  curiosity,  and  suspense :  nor  can  one  guess  how  lonff 
it  would  be  before  he  would  be  familiarized  to  himself  and 
the  objects  about  him,  enough  even  to  set  himself  to  any- 
thing. It  may  be  questioned  too,  whether  the  natural 
information  of  his  sight  and  hearing  would  be  of  any 
manner  of  use  at  all  to  him  in  acting^  before  experience. 
And  it  seems,  that  men  would  be  strangely  headstrong 
and  self-willed,  and  disposed  to  exert  themselves  with  an 
impetuosity  which  would  render  society  insupportable,  and 
living  in  it  impracticable,  were  it  not  for  some  acquired 
moderation  and  self-government,  some  aptitude  and  readi- 
ness in  restraining  themselves,  and  in  concealing  their 
sense  of  things.  —  In  these  respects,  and  probably  in 
many  more  of  which  we  have  no  particular  notion, 
mankind  is  left  by  nature  an  unformed  and  unfinished 
creature,  utterly  deficient  and  unqualified,  before  the 
acquirement  of  knowledge,  experience,  and  habits,  for 
that  mature  state  of  life  which  was  the  end  of  his  crea- 
tion ;  considering  him  as  related  only  to  this  world." 
All  this  is  equally  true  of  mankind,  in  regard  to  re_ 
ligion. 

I  thus  bespeak  the  candour  of  Philosophy,  as  well  as  of 
educated  Piety,  on  behalf  of  new-born  Bunyan.  I  will 
neither  conceal  nor  soften  his  freaks  or  flincies,  his  caprice 
or  rashness :  but  I  must  treat  them  with  tenderness,  and 
demand  for  him  great  allowances  at  this  stage  of  his 
Christian  life. 


72  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Bunyan  erred  nearly  as  much  when  he  ascribed  all  his 
discouragements  and  suspicions  to  the  Tempter,  as  when 
he  charged  himself  with  the  guilt  of  every  temptation  which 
haunted  him.  This  is  hardly  to  be  wondered  at.  He  was 
ignorant  of  the  devices  of  Satan,  when  they  began  to  sift 
and  shake  him ;  and  he  had  suffered  so  much  from  them 
before  it  could  be  said  of  him  as  of  Christ,  **  then  the  devil 
leaveth  him,  and  an  Angel  ministered  unto  him,"  that  he 
naturally  traced  to  the  devil  all  the  fears  and  doubts,  as 
well  as  the  distractions  and  blasphemies,  which  had  ever 
harassed  his  mind.  He  saw,  when  writing  an  account  of 
them,  that  his  dilemmas  had  had  the  same  influence  as  his 
distractions,  in  beating  him  off  from  the  foundation  of 
Hope  ;  and  therefore  he  ascribed  both  to  the  same  cause. 
It  is  not  necessary,  however,  that  his  Biographer  should  do 
so.  It  has  been  too  often  done  already  by  his  Annalists. 
Besides ;  there  is  much  in  his  Experience  not  easily  to  be 
accounted  for,  even  when  Satanic  agency  is  drawn  upon 
for  explanations.  Such  being  the  fact,  I  am  not  inclined 
to  draw  much  upon  that  source,  until  nothing  else  will 
explain  Bunyan's  temptations. 

It  is  not  meant  by  these  remarks,  to  convey  the  idea 
that  Satan  had  notliing  to  do  with  Bunyan's  wild  reasonings 
about  faith,  and  election,  and  the  length  of  the  day  of 
grace.  All  I  mean,  is,  that  "  no  strange  thing  had 
befallen"  him,  when  questions  about  '■^secret  things^'  drove 
him  to  his  wits'  end.  Such  questions  are  only  too  natural  ; 
without  strong  temptation  to  enforce  or  suggest  them. 
They  might  have  occurred  without  Satan  ;  although,  when 
once  started,  he  struck  in  with  them,  or  turned  them  into 
"  fiery  darts."  That  he  did  so,  in  this  instance,  cannot  be 
doubted  by  any  one  who  believes  in  his  agency :  for  it  will 
be  seen,  that  the  questions  soon  go  against  the  very  "  grain 
of  nature,"  as  well  as  against  Bunyan's  flatne  of  desire. 
"  I  began,"  he  says,  "  to  find  my  soul  assaulted  with  fresh 
doubts  about  my  future  happiness :  especially  with  such  as 


LIFE    OF    BUN  VAN.  73 

these  ; — Whether  I  was  elected  ?  How  if  the  day  of  grace 
be  past?  By  these  two  temptations,  I  was  very  much 
afflicted  and  disquieted :  sometimes  by  one,  and  sometimes 
by  the  other  of  them." 

"  And  first,  to  speak  of  that  about  questioning-  my 
election : — I  found  at  this  time,  that  though  I  was  in  a 
Jiame  to  find  the  way  to  Heaven  and  Glory,  and  though 
nothing  could  heat  me  off  from  this,  yet  this  question  did  so 
offend  and  discourage  me,  that  I  was  (especially  at  some 
times)  as  if  the  very  strength  of  my  body  also,  had  been 
taken  away  by  the  force  and  power  thereof.  This  Scripture 
did  also  seem  to  trample  upon  all  my  desires, — *  It  is  not 
of  him  that  willeth,  nor  of  him  that  runneth,  but  of  God 
that  sheweth  mercy.'  With  this  Scripture, — I  could  not 
tell  what  to  do :  for  I  evidently  saw,  that  unless  the  great 
God,  of  his  infinite  grace,  had  voluntarily  chosen  me  to  be 
a  vessel  of  mercy,  though  I  should  desire  and  long,  and 
labour  until  my  heart  did  break, — no  good  could  come  of 
it.  Therefore,  this  would  stick  with  me  :  How  can  you  tell 
that  you  are  elected  ?  And,  what  if  you  should  not  (be 
so  ?)  How  then  ? 

"■  O  Lord,  thought  I, — What  if  I  should  not,  indeed  ? 
It  may  be  you  are  not  (elected),  said  the  Tempter.  It 
may  be  so,  indeed,  said  I.  Why  then,  said  Satan,  you 
had  as  good  leave  off,  and  strive  no  farther  :  for  if,  indeed, 
you  should  not  be  elected  and  chosen  of  God,  there  is  no 
hope  of  your  being  saved  ;  for  it  is  not  of  him  that  willeth, 
nor  of  him  that  runneth,  but  of  God  that  sheweth  mercy. 

"  By  these  things  I  was  driven  to  my  wits'  end  ;  not 
knowing  what  to  say,  nor  how  to  answer  the  temptations. 
Indeed,  I  little  thought  that  Satan  had  thus  assaulted  me  : 
but  that  rather  it  was  my  own  prudence^  thus  to  start  the 
question.  For  that  the  Elect  only  obtained  eternal  life, 
that,  I  wdthout  scruple,  did  heartily  close  with :  but  that 
myself  was  one  of  them  ; — there  lay  the  question  !  Thus, 
therefore,  for  several   days,   I  was  greatly   assaulted  and 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


perplexed  ;    and   was  often,  when   I  have  been  walking-, 
ready  to  sink  where  I  went,  with  faintness  in  my  mind." 

Thus  although  this  question  originated  in  a  mistake  of 
Bunyan's,  it  was  ripened  into  a  temptation  by  Satan.  In 
itself,  it  was  not  an  unnatural  question  ;  but  it  became 
absolutely  Satanic,  when  it  prevailed  over  a  very  flame  of 
holy  and  heavenly  desire,  and  thus  prostrated  both  a  robust 
body  and  a  mighty  mind.  I  cannot,  notwithstanding  all 
my  suspicions  of  the  morbid  cast  of  Bunyan's  mind,  exclude 
temptation  here.  There  is  less  of  it,  indeed,  than  in  some 
of  his  subsequent  horrors ;  but  still  enough  to  compel  the 
exclamation,  "  An  Enemy  hath  done  this  !" 

This  is,  certainly,  a  convenient^  as  well  as  a  summary, 
mode  of  accounting  for  the  overwhelming  effects  of  such  a 
question.  It  is,  I  grant,  employing  one  mystery  to  explain 
another.  Still,  better  do  that,  than  do  nothing.  Satanic 
agency,  however  mysterious  in  itself,  and  whatever  diffi- 
culties it  involves,  is  a  revealed  fact :  whereas  it  is  neither 
revealed  by  God,  nor  ascertained  by  philosophy,  that  mind 
has  a  natural  tendency  to  torture  itself  into  despair  with 
such  questions.  It  is  inclined  to  tamper  with  them,  and  to 
indulge  many  suspicions  and  fears  for  the  safety  of  what  is 
dear,  and  about  the  success  of  what  is  important.  We 
conjure  up  thousands  of  dark  fancies,  and  can  make  our- 
selves feverish  by  dwelling  upon  imaginary  accidents.  But 
it  is  not  natural  to  indulge  the  fear  of  perishing,  nor  yet 
to  lay  to  heart  the  danger  of  being  lost  for  ever.  All  the 
natural  tendencies  of  the  human  mind  lean  the  other  way, 
and  trifle  or  presume,  until  the  power  of  Truth  check 
them.  When,  therefore,  that  power  set  Bunyan  *'  in  a 
Jlame  to  find  the  way  to  Heaven  and  Glory,"  that  flame 
took,  of  course,  the  guidance  of  his  voluntary  thoughts. 
From  whence,  then,  came  the  irivoluntary  fears  which  pre- 
vailed against  both  volition  and  burning  desire  ?  He  who 
says  in  answer  to  this  question, — "  from  the  mind  itself," 
insinuates  more  against  the  Author  of  mind,  than  he  who 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  75 

traces  the  overwhelming  tears  to  the  agency  of  Satan.  For 
if  the  constitution  of  the  mind  incline  it  to  a  bye-play,  which 
can  defeat  all  its  best  and  concentrated  desires,  even  when 
their  spring-tide  flows  upon  the  eternal  channels  of  self- 
love,  and  in  a  heavenward  direction,  then  are  we  more 
periled  by  this  mental  bye-play,  than  by  all  the  power  of 
Satan.  He  is  an  Enemy  without ;  of  whom  we  are  apprised 
and  warned :  but  this  is  an  enemy  ivithin  ;  of  whom  we 
have  no  notice.  We  are  told,  that  Satan  suggests  lies  ;  and 
thus  we  are  prepared  to  suspect  him.  But  we  are  not  told 
by  the  Father  of  our  spirits,  that  there  is  in  them  a  lurking 
bias  to  despair,  which  may  defeat  all  their  wishes  and  efibrts 
to  hope.  We  are  told  by  God,  of  inward  foes  to  Holiness, 
and  of  the  war  of  the  flesh  against  the  spirit,  and  of  a  law 
in  the  members  opposed  to  the  law  of  the  mind  :  but  of  no 
inward  law,  lust,  or  bias  against  Hope.  When,  therefore, 
philosophizers  ascribe  such  despair  to  the  mind  itself,  in 
order  to  get  rid  of  Satanic  agency,  they  only  involve  them- 
selves in  the  greater  difficulty,  of  accounting  for  tendency 
instead  of  temptation.  In  this  dilemma,  the  latter  is  the 
least  horn. 

We  have  seen  that  neither  the  cast  of  Bunyan's  mind, 
nor  the  defects  of  his  knowledge,  will  account  fully  for  his 
proneness  to  despair.  They  explain,  however,  the  way  in 
which  Satan  took  advantage  of  him  so  often  and  easily. 
Bunyan's  temperament  was  prying,  capricious,  and  moody  ; 
and  as  he  had  no  taste  now  for  his  old  sins,  and  had  never 
dreamt  that  it  was  wrong  or  unwise  to  indulge  fancies  and 
curiosity,  he  was  thus  an  easy  prey  to  the  Tempter.  In 
fact,  he  almost  tempted  the  devil ;  for  he  thought  it 
''^ prudence^*  to  start  and  pursue  curious  questions,  even  at 
all  hazards :  a  temper  which  Satan  has  always  humoured 
I  equally,  whether  indulged  under  the  Tree  of  Knowledge, 
I  the  Tree  of  Ignorance,  or  the  Tree  of  Life. 

Bunyan's  curiosity  was,  however,  universal.  It  pried 
into  every  thing  which  fell  under  his  notice ;  and  thus  the 


76  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

oright  as  well  as  the  dark  side  of  the  Pillar  of  Revelation, 
engaged  his  scrutinizing  eye  from  time  to  time.  His  mind 
could  dwell  long  on  the  dark  side ;  but  it  could  not  forget 
the  bright  side  altogether.  Accordingly,  after  he  had  been 
"  many  weeks  oppressed  and  cast  down,"  by  questioning 
his  election,  he  remembered  having  read  the  words,  "  Look 
at  the  generations  of  old,  and  see  :  did  ever  any  trust  in 
God,  and  were  confounded?'*  That  moment  his  hopes, 
which  had  just  before  been  "  quite  giving  up  the  ghost," 
revived,  as  if  an  Angel  had  ministered  to  him,  when  the 
devil  left  hiai.  Yea,  they  did  not  sink,  even  when  he  could 
not  find  the  passage  in  either  the  Old  or  the  New  Testa- 
ment, nor  although  none  of  his  pious  friends  "  knew  such 
place."  More  than  a  year  elapsed  before  he  discovered 
that  it  was  in  the  Apocrypha :  and  yet,  both  it,  and  the 
hope  it  created  "  abode  "  with  him  all  the  time.  The  fact 
is,  the  sublimity  of  the  appeal, — "  Look  at  the  generations 
of  old,  and  see"— had,  when  he  first  read  it,  made  him 
look  along  the  line  of  sacred  history  with  an  eagle-glance, 
which  fell  at  the  same  time  upon  similar  appeals,  and  upon 
corroborating  proofs  ;  and  thus  he  was  sure  that  it  was, 
substantially,  the  word  of  God. 

He  was,  however,  almost  as  much  pleased  with  the  way 
in  which  it  came  to  him  now,  as  with  what  it  said.  It  came 
"  so  suddenly,"  "  so  fresh,"  and  *'  fell  with  such  weight 
upon  his  spirit,  that  it  was,"  he  says,  *'  as  if  it  talked  to 
me."  Now,  although  it  is  impossible  to  begrudge  him  this 
pleasure,  it  is  equally  impossible  not  to  feai-  for  a  mind, 
which  attaches  so  much  importance  to  the  unaimer  in  which 
truth  presents  itself.  Such  a  mind  is  sure  to  keep  on  the  [ 
outlook  for  sudden  and  accidental  discoveries,  which  shall 
dazzle  and  penetrate  like  lightning,  rather  than  for  sober 
truths  which,  like  diamonds,  brighten  by  rubbing.  Bunyan 
affords  a  melancholy  exemplification  of  this.  He  loved 
impulses,  as  "  Ephraim  loved  idols ;  and  after  them  he 
did  go." 


,  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  77 

It  is,  however,  both  instructive  and  pleasing  to  observe, 
that  the  great  impulse  which  floated  his  stranded  spirit 
•clean  over  the  bar  of  suspected  Reprobation,  was  derived 
^rom  a  great  general  principle  of  the  Word  of  God  ; — viz. 
the  uniform  and  uninterrupted  Experience  of  the  Church, 
jthat  none  ever  trusted  in  God,  and  were  disappointed. 
This  fact,  more  than  any  explanations  ever  yet  given  of 
ithe  divine  sovereignty  in  showing  mercy,  has  helped  many 
who,  like  Bunyan,  have  stranded  themselves  upon  the 
same  bar.  Perhaps  no  one  ever  got  fairly  over,  by  any 
other  means. 

Bunyan  was  not  long  over  this  bar,  when  a  new  one 
presented  itself.  "  After  this,"  he  says,  *'  that  other  doubt 
did  come  with  strength  upon  me, — But  how  if  the  day  of 
Grace  be  past  and  gone  ?  How  if  you  have  over  stood  the 
time  of  Mercy  ?  Now  I  remember  that  one  day  as  I  was 
walking  in  the  country,  I  was  much  in  the  thoughts  of 
this :  But  how  if  the  day  of  grace  be  past  ?  And  to 
aggravate  my  trouble,  the  Tempter  presented  to  my  mind 
those  good  people  of  Bedford,  and  suggested  this  to  me, 
that  these  being  converted  already,  they  were  all  that  God 
would  save  in  those  parts,  and  that  I  came  too  late,  for 
those  had  got  the  blessing  before  me. 

"  Now  I  was  in  great  distress ;  thinking,  in  very  deed, 

that  this  might  well  be  so."     He  means  that,  in  his  own 

case,  it  might  justly  have  been  so.     And  he  was  right ! 

For  although  he  had  sinned  much  through  ignorance,  he 

had    also    trifled  much  through  sheer   obstinacy.     Many, 

indeed,  have  resisted  the  strivings  of  the  Holy  Spirit  longer 

than  Bunyan  did;  but  he   had   resisted  long  enough  to 

justify  that  Spirit,  had  he  ceased  to  strive  with  him  even 

then.     However  wrong  a  view,  therefore,  he  took  of  the 

I  length  of  the  day  of  Grace,  he   did  only  right  when  he 

j  counted    himself   "  far  worse  than   a   thousand  fools  for 

I  standing  off  thus  long,  and  spending  so  many  years  in  sin." 

Indeed,  had  he  not  given  way  to  despair  again,  and  thus 


78  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

"  limited  the  Holy  One,"  his  shame  and  regret  would  not 
have  been  too  great,  even  when  he  went  up  and  down  the 
country  bemoaning  his  sad  condition,  and  saying  to  himself, 
*'  Oh,  that  I  had  turned  sooner  !  Oh,  that  I  had  turned 
seven  years  ago !  It  made  me  also  angrij  with  myself  to 
think,  that  I  should  have  no  more  wit,  but  to  trifle  away 
my  time." 

In  all  this,  Bunyan  neither  erred  nor  exaggerated.  He 
did  both,  however,  when  he  rashly  concluded,  that  "  seven 
years  "  had  exhausted  the  long-suffering  of  God.  This  was 
as  hasty  and  unwarranted  a  conclusion,  as  that  of  his  non- 
election.  Accordingly,  it  had  the  same  overwhelming 
effect  upon  both  his  mind  and  body,  and  that  for  a  *'  long 
time."  He  "vexed"  himself  with  this  fear,  until  he  was 
scarce  *'  able  to  take  one  step  more  under  its  weight." 

He  got  over  this  fear,  as  he  did  over  the  former,  by  a 
great  general  Principle  of  the  gospel,  and  not  by  any  given 
explanation  of  the  particular  difficulty  which  had  originated 
the  fear.  The  wide  and  warm  commission  of  Christ, 
**  Compel  them  to  come  in,  that  my  house  may  be  filled ; 
and  yet  there  is  room,"  convinced  him  that  the  door  was 
not  shut,  nor  the  patience  of  God  worn  out.  These  words, 
especially,  "And  yet  there  is  room,"  were,  he  says,  "sweet 
words  to  me ;  in  the  light  and  encouragement  of  (which) 
I  went  a  pretty  while :  for  truly  I  thought  that  by  them,  I 
saw  there  was  place  enough  in  Heaven  for  me." 

He  might  have  walked  much  longer  in  this  Light,  had 
he  looked  only  to  its  place  and  position  in  the  firmament 
of  Revelation.  But  no  :  it  was  neither  the  cast  nor  the 
habit  of  his  mind  to  be  satisfied  with  mere  Truth,  however 
sweet.  Accordingly,  he  sweetened  these  sweet  words  thus  : 
"  the  comfort  (of  them)  was  the  more,  when  I  thought  that 
the  Lord  Jesus  should  think  on  me  so  long  ago,  and  that  He 
should  speak  those  words  on  purpose  for  my  sake ;  for  I 
did  think,  verily,  that  He  did  on  purpose  speak  them  to 
encourage  me  withal.     Truly  I  thought  that  when  he  did 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  79 

t;peak  them,  he  then  did  think  of  me  ;  knowing-  the  time 
would  come,  that  I  should  be  afflicted  with  fear  that  there 
was  no  place  left  for  me  in  his  bosom.  He  did  (therefore) 
before,  speak  this  word,  and  leave  it  upon  record,  that  I 
might  find  help  thereby  against  this  vile  temptation.  This 
I  then  verily  believed.'*  Poor  Bunyan !  One  of  his  reasons 
for  believing-  thus  was,  that  the  "  words  lyrohe  in  upon  "  his 
mind.  Another  reason  was,  that  they  broke  in  "just 
about  the  same  place "  where  he  had  received  his  former 
"  encouragement."  He  laid  much  stress  upon  these 
accidents,  or  coincidences ;  little  imagining,  that  he  would 
have  got  more  comfort  from  the  words,  had  he  overlooked 
or  forgotten  both  how  they  came,  and  where  they  came,  to 
him.  But  this  was  not  his  way.  The  ripest  fruit  of  the 
Tree  of  Life  was  not  sweet  enough  for  him  then,  unless  it 
fell  at  his  feet  by  some  happy  accident,  or  was  wrapped  up 
in  other  leaves  than  its  own.  In  like  manner,  it  was  not 
enough  for  him  to  meet  with  Truths  which  were  lights 
shining  in  a  dark  place :  they  must  both  dart  and  dazzle, 
and  that  suddenly,  in  order  to  make  "  the  day-star  "  of 
hope  arise  in  his  heart. 

We,  indeed,  have  no  reason  to  regret  that  this  was  the 
turn  of  his  mind.  It  was  injurious  to  his  own  peace  and 
piety  at  the  time;  but  it  prepared  for  us  the  vivid  charac- 
ters and  scenery  of  his  immortal  Allegories; — into  which 
he  admitted  no  tame  nor  indefinite  beings  or  things.  In 
writing  his  Pilgrims  and  Holy  War,  he  was  for  ever  on 
the  outlook  for  persons  who  would  strike  the  mind  at  once, 
and  keep  up  attention  to  the  last.  Accordingly,  all  his 
leading  characters  in  both  works,  evidently  darted  into  his 
own  mind,  and  were  as  welcome  to  him  because  of  their 
sudden  entrance,  as  for  their  perfect  truth.  He  himself, 
however,  paid  dearly  for  the  pleasure  he  was  thus  prepared 
to  give  us. 

It  is  a  curious  fact,  that  one  of  the  first  uses  he  made  of 
the  hope  and  peace  he  derived  from  the  ample  "  room  "  he 


80  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

now  saw  for  liimselt  in  Heaven,  was  to  allegorize  the  clean 
and  unclean  Beasts  of  the  Jews :  the  very  last  thing 
which  any  ordinary  man  would  have  tried,  or  dreamt  of, 
when  but  just  emerged  from  the  Slough  of  Despond,  and 
only  half  dry  from  its  miry  clay  and  cold  waters.  He  says, 
indeed,  that  he  "  was  almost  made,  about  this  time,  to  see 
something  concerning  the  beasts  that  Moses  counted  clean 
and  unclean."  He  did  not  require  much  forcing  for  such 
work  !  The  difficulty  was  to  keep  him  from  it.  I  only 
regret  this,  however,  on  his  account.  This  taste,  like  the 
former,  prepared  him  to  produce  for  us,  his  "  Solomon's 
Temple  Spiritualized,  *'  and  his  "  Heavenly  Jerusalem 
Opened."  It  led  him  also  then,  although  by  a  round- 
about way,  to  the  sober  examination  of  more  suitable 
truths.  The  Tinker  was,  however,  no  bad  Talmuclist, 
even  from  the  first.  •  "  I  thought,"  he  says,  "  those  beasts 
were  types  of  men  :  the  clean^  types  of  the  people  of  God  ; 
but  the  unclean^  such  as  were  the  children  of  the  wicked 
one.  Now  I  read,  that  the  clean  beasts  chewed  the  cud : 
that  is,  thought  I,  they  show  us  we  must  feed  upon  the 
word  of  God.  They  also  parted  the  hoof:  I  thought  that 
signified,  we  must  part,  if  we  would  be  saved,  with  the 
ways  of  ungodly  men. 

**  And  also  in  reading  further  about  them,  I  found,  that 
though  we  did  chew  the  cud  as  the  liare^  yet  if  we  did 
part  the  hoof  like  the  swinCy  or  walked  with  claws  like  a 
dog,  yet,  if  we  did  not  chew  the  cud  as  the  sheep,  we  are 
still,  for  all  that,  but  unclean.  For,  I  thought  the  Hare  to 
be  a  type  of  those  that  talk  of  the  Word,  yet  walk  in  the 
ways  of  sin :  and  that  the  swine  w^as  like  him  that  parted 
with  his  outward  pollution,  but  still  wanteth  the  word  of 
faith,  without  which  there  could  be  no  way  of  salvation,  let 
a  man  be  never  so  devout." 

This  allegorizing,  if  less  profound  than  some  of  the 
Talmudical,  is  more  practical  than  most  of  it.  It  led  also 
to  better  work.    "  After  this,"  he  says,  "  I  found  by  reading 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  81 

the  Wora,  that  those  that  must  be  glorified  with  Christ  in 
another  world,  must  be  called  by  him  here :  called  to  the 
partaking  of  a  share  in  his  work  and  righteousness,  and  to 
the  comforts  and  first-fruits  of  his  Spirit,  and  to  a  peculiar 
interest  in  all  those  heavenly  things,  which  do  indeed 
prepare  the  soul  for  that  rest  and  house  of  Glory,  which  is 
in  heaven  above."  These  sound  conclusions  were  drawn 
from  the  tenor  of  Scripture,  and  under  the  influence  of 
what  Bunyan  well  calls,  "  a  sound  sense  of  death  and  judg- 
ment," which  abode  continually  in  his  view  at  this  time. 
This  deep  sense  of  his  responsibility  and  mortality,  "  out- 
weighed "  also  many  temptations  from  without  and  within, 
"  to  go  back  again "  to  the  pleasures  of  the  world.  He 
also  thought  often  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  and  said  to  himself, 
"  If  this  great  man  had  all  his  portion  in  this  world,  one 
hour  in  hell-fire  would  make  him  forget  all."  This  con- 
sideration was  *'  a  great  help  "  to  him,  in  believing  that  the 
pleasures  of  sin  were  only  for  a  season. 

With  these  sober  and  solemn  truths  before  him,  Bunyan 
might  be  expected,  now,  to  eschew  dark  suspicions,  as  he 
did  sins.  But  no :  the  necessity  of  being  *'  called  by 
Christ,"  threw  him  upon  the  question,  Am  I  called  ?  just 
as  former  pryings  had  thrown  him  upon  the  question  of 
election.  This  would  be  surprising  in  almost  any  other 
man :  for  what  could  be  more  probable  than  both  the 
calling  and  the  election  of  a  man,  who  was  intensely  intent 
upon  obtaining  a  holy  salvation  ?  We  see  this  :  but  Bunyan 
did  not  see  it  his  own  case.  Accordingly,  he  was  soon 
"at  a  very  great  stand*^  again,  "not  knowing  what  to 
do"  if  he  were  not  called.  He  put  the  case,  "If  I  be 
not  called,  thought  I,  what  then  can  do  me  good  ?  None 
but  those  who  are  effectually  called,  inherit  the  kingdom 
of  heaven." 

In  the  lips  of  many,  this  argument  is  a  mere  excuse  for 
doing  nothing.  Accordingly,  it  is  in  general  uttered  with 
a  pert  flippancy,  which  proves  that  they  care  nothing  about 

M 


82  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

the  matter.  Bunyan,  however,  was  as  serious  and  solemn 
as  he  was  unwise,  when  he  argued  thus.  It  was  not  to 
exempt  himself  from  the  duty  of  seeking-  to  be  called  by 
Grace,  nor  from  the  diligence  necessary  in  order  to  make 
his  '*  calling  sure,"  that  he  started  the  question.  His 
perfect  honesty  must  not,  however,  be  allowed  to  hide  his 
folly  or  his  weakness,  in  this  instance.  He  knew  just  as 
little  about  the  length  of  his  life,  or  the  continuance  of  his 
reasony  as  he  did  of  his  calling  and  election.  It  would  not, 
therefore,  have  been  a  whit  more  unwise,  had  he  tormented 
himself  by  asking, — "What  if  God  call  me  away  by  death, 
or  leave  me  to  go  mad,  before  I  can  seek  for  mercy  ? 
None  but  the  living  and  the  sane  can  pray  for  salvation  : 
unless,  therefore,  God  has  decreed  the  continuance  of  my 
life  and  reason, '  what  then  can  do  me  good  ?' "  Any  one  sees 
the  absurdity  of  taking  up  the  question  of  time  and  talents 
in  this  way.  And  it  is  equally  absurd  and  useless,  to  make 
either  "  Calling  or  Election,"  a  preliminary  question,  in 
personal  religion  :  for  no  man  can  answer  it  in  that  form 
or  connexion,  and  God  will  not. 

It  had,  however,  one  good  effect  upon  Bunyan  :  it  made 
the  subject  of  a  special  call  (or  conversion)  unspeakably 
dear  to  him.  Hence  he  exclaims,  "  Oh,  how  I  now  loved 
those  words  that  spake  of  a  Christian's  calling ;  as  when 
the  Lord  said  to  one  '  Follow  me,'  and  to  another,  *  Come 
after  me.'  Oh,  thought  I, — that  he  would  say  so  to  me 
too !  How  gladly  would  I  run  after  him  !  I  cannot  now 
express  with  what  longings  and  breathings  in  my  soul,  I 
cried  to  Christ  to  call  me.  Thus  I  continued  for  a  time, — 
all  on  a  flame  to  be  converted  to  Jesus  Christ.  I  did  also 
see  at  that  day,  such  glory  in  a  converted  state,  that  I  could 
not  be  contented  without  a  share  therein.  Gold  ! — could 
it  have  been  gotten  for  gold — what  would  I  have  given  for 
it  ?  Had  I  had  a  whole  world,  it  had  all  gone,  ten  thou- 
sand times  over, — that  my  soul  might  have  been  in  a 
converted  state. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  83 

"  How  lovely  now  was  every  one  in  my  eyes,  that  I 
thought  to  be  converted,  whether  man  or  woman  !  They 
shone — they  walked — like  a  people  that  carried  the  broad 
seal  of  Heaven  about  them.  Oh  I  I  saw  '  the  lot  had  fallen 
to  them  in  pleasant  places,  and  they  had  a  goodly  heritage.' 
But  that  which  made  me  sick  was,  that  of  Christ,  in  St. 
Mark,  '  He  went  up  into  a  mountain,  and  called  to  him 
whom  he  ivould,  and  they  came  unto  him.'     Mark  iii.  13. 

"  This  Scripture  made  me  faint  and  fear  ; — yet  it  kindled 
Jire  in  my  soul.  That  which  made  me  fear  was  this, — lest 
Christ  should  have  no  liking  to  me :  for  He  called  whom 
he  would  !  But,  O,  the  glory  I  saw  in  that  condition,  did 
still  so  engage  my  heart,  that  I  could  seldom  read  of  any 
whom  Christ  did  call,  but  I  presently  wished, — Would  I 
had  been  in  their  clotlies  !  Would  I  had  been  born  Peter ! 
Would  I  had  been  born  John !  Or,  would  I  had  been  by 
and  heard  Him  when  he  called  them, — how  I  would  have 
cried,  O  Lord,  call  me  also  !  But  oh,  I  feared  he  would 
not  call  me." 

However  wrong  the  form  of  this  holy  solicitude  may  be, 
the  spirit  of  it  is  beyond  all  price.  I  would  rather  breathe 
this  spirit  of  intense  desire  in  unwise  forms,  than  utter  the 
most  accurate  prayers  for  conversion  in  a  formal  way. 
Bunyan  erred  when  he  looked  for  a  Call  apart  from  the 
Gospel :  but  he  was  not  too  solicitous  about  conversion,  nor 
too  willing  to  *'  count  all  things  but  loss  "  for  it.  I  am  often 
tempted,  when  my  eye  falls  upon  the  cold  reasonings  of  some 
Critics  against  his  hot  desires,  to  go  into  as  metaphysical 
an  analysis  of  their  coldness,  as  they  give  of  his  heart ; 
and  thus  to  demonstrate  that  their  reasonings  are  more 
*•  insane "  than  his  own.  And  they  are  certainly  more 
below  the  mark  than  he  was  above  it ;  if  there  be  any  truth 
in  the  Bible,  any  greatness  in  Salvation,  or  any  solemnity 
in  Eternity.  His  theology  is  bad  ;  but  their  philosophy  is 
worthless.  His  false  thoughts  are  redeemed  by  his  pure 
spirit ;  but  theirs  have  no   redeeming  qualitv  ;  for  their 


84  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

eloquence  only  aggravates  their  heartlessness.  A  man  with 
no  hopes,  is  certainly  a  pitiable  object :  but  a  man  with  ro 
fears,  is  monstrous,  in  a  world  where  sin  abounds,  and 
immortality  is  believed,  and  accountability  acknowledged. 
In  such  a  world,  even  Bunyan's  ravings  are  wisdom, 
compared  with  either  the  dumb  apathy,  or  the  drivelling 
inanities  of  nominal  Christians.  His  "  hot  fits "  are 
extravagant  ;  but  their  cold  temperament  is  revolting.  It 
is  painful  to  hear  Bunyan  say  of  his  failure,  whilst  looking 
for  the  call  of  Grace  apart  from  the  call  of  Truth,  *'  The 
Lord  let  me  go  thus  many  months  together,  and  showed 
me  nothing,  either  that  I  was  already,  or  should  be  called 
hereafter :"  but  it  is  shocking  to  hear  Paley  say,  "  If  we 
press  and  insist  upon  Conversion  as  indispensable  to  All 
for  the  purpose  of  being  saved,  we  should  mislead  some 
who  were  never,  that  they  knew,  either  indifferent  to 
religion,  or  alienated  from  it."  Such  persons  *'  need  not 
be  made  miserable  by  the  want  of  a  consciousness  of  such 
a  change."  Sermons^  p.  123.  Paley,  I  believe,  thought 
more  wisely  before  he  died :  but  thus  he  wrote  when  he 
had  most  influence  upon  public  opinion. 

Bunyan's  conflict  at  this  time  terminated  in  a  dreamy 
sort  of  hope,  that  he  might  eventually  be  converted ;  and, 
as  usual,  that  hope  rested  quite  as  much  upon  the  peculiar 
manner  in  which  the  Text  presented  itself,  as  upon  what  it 
meant : — *'  At  last  after  much  time  spent,  and  many  groans 
to  God,  that  I  might  be  made  partaker  of  the  holy  and 
heavenly  calling,  that  word  came  in  upon  me^ — '  I  will 
cleanse  their  blood,  that  I  have  not  cleansed  :  for  the  Lord 
dwelleth  in  Zion.'  Joel  iii.  21.  Those  words,  I  thought, 
were  sent  to  encourage  me  to  wait  still  on  God ;  and 
signified  unto  me  that,  if  I  were  not  already,  yet  the  time 
inight  come  when  I  ynight  be  in  truth,  converted  unto 
Christ." 

What  shall  we  say  to  these  things  ?  Something  ought 
to  be  said,  and  that  very  plainly.     In  the  present  day,  few 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


85 


things  need  more  to  be  rejudged  than  the  remarkable 
Experience  of  the  good  men  of  former  ages.  Their 
experience,  because  of  their  eventual  goodness,  is  read 
and  remembered  by  the  pious  and  the  thoughtful :  and  not 
unfrequently  appealed  to,  in  order  to  test  or  explain  the 
religious  dilemmas  and  vicissitudes  of  other  minds.  It  is 
also  confounded  with  the  terror  of  the  Philippian  jailor,  or 
with  the  anguish  of  the  Pentecostal  converts,  as  if  it 
originated  in  the  same  causes,  or  necessarily  belonged  to 
eal  conversion. 

This  is  neither  wise  nor  fair.  Lydia  did  not  tremble 
like  the  Jailor,  nor  was  Timothy  cut  to  the  heart  like  the 
Jewish  converts ;  and  yet  their  being  "  born  again  of  the 
Spirit "  is  never  questioned,  by  any  one  who  believes  in  the 
necessity  of  the  new-birth.  We  almost  take  for  granted, 
however,  that  distressing  doubts  and  fears  are  inseparable 
from  true  piety,  at  its  outset.  We  are  even  somewhat 
inclined  to  suspect,  that  their  personal  religion  is  very 
superficial,  if  not  insincere,  who  have  never  been  deeply 
exercised  with  perplexing  questions,  or  with  oppressive 
fears.  And  we  certainly  think  best,  of  those  who  suffer 
most  in  this  way.  This  is  hardly  to  be  wondered  at :  for 
we  have  seldom,  if  ever,  seen  a  Christian  who  was  not  in 
deep  waters  at  first :  whereas,  we  have  always  seen,  that 
those  professors  of  religion,  who  have  *'  no  changes^  fear 
not  God."  But  still,  although  it  be  a  very  suspicious 
thing  to  have  no  changes  from  hope  to  fear,  or  from  faith 
to  doubt,  it  does  not  follow  that  all  changes  of  this  kind, 
are  either  necessary  or  useful  parts  of  christian  experience. 
Good  may,  indeed,  come  out  of  the  worst  of  them,  in  the 
long  run  ;  but  when  it  does  so,  not  a  few  of  them  are  seen 
to  be  bad  in  themselves.  This  is  only  too  true,  in  regard 
to  such  doubts  and  fears  as  Bunyan  gave  way  to.  He 
doubted  every  thing  by  turns,  and  feared  the  worst  always, 
for  years.  But  he  suffered  so  much,  and  was  so  sincere, 
that  we  readily,  almost  instinctively,  refer  one  half  of  his 


86  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

doubts  to  his  deep  humility,  and  the  other  half  of  them  to 
the  suggestions  of  Satan.  And  Satan  (as  we  shall  see) 
had,  no  doubt,  not  a  little  to  do  with  what  Bunyan  well 
calls,  "  the  fiery  force  "  of  his  strong  temptations.  That 
force  was  too  fiery,  to  be  altogether  natural.  Its  rushing 
flame  of  wliite  heat,  drove  back,  and  almost  quenched 
occasionally,  a  "  very  flame  "  of  holy  and  heavenly  desire, 
which  came  as  truly  from  both  the  centre  and  surface  of 
his  heart,  as  light  or  heat  from  the  sun.  But  still,  he  was 
to  blame.  He  deserves  pity  ;  but  he  must  be  blamed,  if 
we  would  not  reflect  upon  the  Word  of  God.  That  Word 
did  not  warrant  the  questions  he  started,  nor  countenance 
the  spirit  in  which  they  were  indulged.  Such  questions  as 
— Am  I  elected  ?  Am  I  called,  or  likely  to  be  called  ? 
Is  there  any  room  in  Heaven,  or  in  the  love  of  Christ,  for 
me?  Am  I  a  reprobate,  or  too  guilty  to  be  forgiven,  or 
too  late  to  be  welcome  ? — Such  questions  are  absolutely 
forbidden  by  the  scriptural  fact,  that  Christ  requires  us  to 
receive  the  Kingdom  of  God  as  little  children.  He  says 
expressly  and  repeatedly,  that  "  whosoever  shall  not 
receive  the  kingdom  of  God  as  a  little  child,  shall  not 
enter  therein."     Mark  x.  15. 

When  this  first  requirement  of  the  Gospel  becomes  the 
grand  maxim  of  the  Church,  both  curious  and  racking 
questions  will  soon  go  out  of  fashion  ;  or  be  as  promptly 
avoided  or  suppressed  by  the  serious,  as  temptations  to 
blasphemy,  vice,  or  atheism.  Remarkable  Experiences 
also,  which  are  now  made  standards  of  conversion,  or 
quoted  to  explain  the  discouragements  of  some  converts, 
will  be  less  admired,  or  appealed  to.  A  Little  Child 
will  then  be  more  looked  at  as  the  model  of  true  humility, 
than  the  Jailor  trembling,  or  Whitefield  writing  '*  bitter 
things  against  himself,"  or  even  than  Bunyan  at  his  wits* 
end. 

They  do  not  look  with  the  same  eyes  as  Christ  did  upon 
a  little  child, — or  they  have  seen  only  spoiled  children — ' 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  87 

or  looked  at  children  too  big,  who  do  not  see  in  the 
simplicity  of  a  little  child,  the  very  spirit  of  that  meekness 
iand  humility  which  the  Saviour  requires  of  us,  in  order  to 
our  entering  into  his  kingdom  on  earth  or  in  heaven. 
He  meant,  of  course,  not  that  a  child  was  meek  or  humble 
towards  God,  but  that  it  was  so  towards  men,  and 
especially  when  set  in  the  midst  of  strangers  and  superiors. 
Then,  a  little  child,  if  well  brought  up  (and  Christ  did  not 
refer  to  the  impudent  or  the  peevish)  will  believe  what  he 
is  told,  accept  what  is  given  him,  and  do  what  he  is  bid. 
Such  a  child  would  never  think  of  starting  doubts  about 
the  truth  of  any  promise  made  to  him,  or  of  questioning 
his  welcome  to  any  gift  offered  to  him,  or  of  suspecting  the 
good  will  of  those  who  were  good  to  him.  He  would  not 
even  ask  for  any  explanation  of  the  private  reasons  which 
influenced  all  this  kindness,  nor  dream  of  saying  that  it 
could  not  be  meant  for  him.  Or  if  he  did  think  it  too 
much  for  so  little  a  boy,  the  thought  would  only  make 
his  thanks  the  readier,  and  his  blushes  the  deeper. 

It  was  evidently  something  of  this  kind,  the  Saviour 
meant  when  he  made  a  little  child  the  eternal  model  of 
true  humility.  It  was,  however,  of  Humility — not  of 
peniteyice  ;  and  of  humility  in  receiving,  not  in  asking  nor 
in  employing  what  is  promised  in  the  Gospel.  This 
distinction  must  not  be  lost  sight  of.  It  is  only  as  an 
example  of  receiving  aright,  that  the  child  is  held  up  by 
Christ  to  our  imitation.  Asking  aright,  is  set  before  us  by 
Christ,  in  the  Publican  smiting  upon  his  breast,  and 
standing  afar  off  in  the  temple,  and  crying  for  mercy  with 
downcast  eyes.  In  like  manner,  improving  the  gifts  of 
God  aright,  is  exemplified  to  us  by  Christ,  in  the  Parable 
of  the  Talents.  Thus  it  is  to  reflecting  mew,  not  to  little 
children,  we  are  sent,  for  the  model  of  prayer  and  diligence. 
A  child  is,  however,  not  a  less  perfect  model  of  receiving 
aright,  both  gifts  and  promises.  He  may  wonder,  and 
blush  to  the  very  ears,  and  advance  with  a  tottering  foot 


i 


88  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

and  a  timid  hand,  when  good  things  are  held  out  to  him, 
or  great  promises  made  to  him  ;  but  he  has  no  suspicions ; 
he  starts  no  objections;  he  gives  way  to  no  curious  ques- 
tions nor  dark  surmises.  He  is  too  much  pleased,  to  be  of 
a  doubtful  mind.  He  lets  the  gifts  and  promises  made  to 
him,  make  all  their  natural  impression  upon  his  heart,  even 
if  that  make  him  dance  with  joy. 

Now  this  is  just  the  spirit  in  which  Christ  wishes  men  to 
receive  the  glad  tidings  of  Salvation,  or  the  Gospel  of  the 
Kingdom  ;  readily,  gratefully,  and  even  joyfully.  He 
does  not  commend  or  sanction  doubts,  questions,  or  hesita- 
tion. He  throws  no  serious  mind  upon  the  mysteries  of 
either  Grace  or  Providence,  except  to  stir  it  up  to  "  strive 
to  enter  into  the  Kingdom  of  God." 

It  is,  I  am  well  aware,  easier  said  than  done,  to  receive 
the  oflfers  and  promises  of  that  kingdom  like  a  little  child. 
Very  few  do  so  at  first.  What  then  ?  They  are  glad  to 
do  so  at  last.  Not  one  of  those,  Bunyan  not  excepted, 
who  tried  other  methods,  found  solid  peace  or  hope,  until 
they  embraced  the  Promises,  just  as  a  little  child  takes  his 
father's  word,  or  his  mother's  offer.  Until  they  received  the 
Promises  of  the  Kingdom  thus,  they  did  not  enter  into  the 
joy,  the  peace,  or  the  safety,  which  the  Kingdom  of  God 
provides  for  its  willing  subjects.  They  looked  at  them, 
indeed,  with  a  longing  eye,  and  prayed  for  them  with 
strong  cries  and  tears,  and  admired  them  with  a  holy 
esteem  ;  but  they  could  not  appropriate  them.  They  some- 
times thought  and  felt,  for  a  moment,  that  they  had  entered 
into  the  joy  of  salvation,  and  found  rest  to  their  souls : 
but  the  sweet  hope  did  not  last  long.  It  could  not.  They 
took  it  up,  not  as  a  little  child,  because  it  was  set  before 
them  in  the  Gospel  of  the  Kingdom  ;  but  because  they 
allowed  themselves  to  take  their  calling  and  election  for 
granted  then,  or  because  i\\Qj  felt  something  which  seemed 
to  give  them  a  right  to  believe  the  promises.  The  fact  is, 
they  wanted  from  the  first  to  believe  the  glad  tidings  of 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  8.9 

the  Gospel,  not  as  great  sinners  only,  nor  as  little  children 
simply,  but  d.^  great  favourites  ;  or  as  "chosen  and  ordained" 
heirs  of  the  Kingdom.  They  had  no  objections  to  believe 
it  as  great  sinners,  nor  to  be  thankful  for  it  as  great 
debtors ;  but  they  wanted  to  believe  it  too,  as  the  elect 
children,  or  the  adopted  children,  or  the  dear  children  of 
God,  at  the  same  time.  If  they  thought  at  all  of  receiving 
the  Gospel  of  the  Kingdom  as  a  little  child,  they  meant 
not  as  such  a  little  child  as  Christ  selected  and  set  up  as  a 
model,  but  as  a  child  of  God.  As,  indeed,  one  of  the 
leasts  or  even  *'  less  than  the  least,"  of  all  the  spiritual  and 
special  children  of  the  Kingdom  ;  but  still,  as  one  of  them, 
and  not  merely  as  an  ordinary  child. 

It  is  not  easy  to  expose  this  mistake,  nor  to  expostulate 
against  it,  without  seeming  to  undervalue  or  overlook  what 
the  Scriptures  say  about  sonship,  adoption,  and  election. 
It  must  be  done,  however,  at  all  hazards,  if  Bunyan's 
mistakes  are  to  be  explained,  or  not  to  be  perpetuated. 
More  than  one  half  of  all  his  difficulties  and  distractions 
arose  from  trying  to  receive  the  Kingdom  of  God  as  an  elect 
child,  instead  of  accepting  its  offered  blessings  as  a  little 
child.  Besides,  these  blessings  are  not  offered  to  men,  as 
elected,  or  as  adopted,  or  as  converted ;  but  to  men,  as 
lost  sinners,  and  unworthy  creatures.  Whatever,  there- 
fore, the  sovereignty  of  God  in  showing  mercy  may  be, 
those  certainly  do  not  honour  it  most  or  best  who  want  to 
know  their  election,  before  they  hope  in  His  mercy.  They 
may,  indeed,  mean  well ;  but  they  judge  ill,  and  even  pre- 
sume not  a  little.  The  unquestioning  silence  of  a  child  is 
better  homage  to  the  Divine  sovereignty,  than  this  suspicious 
prying  into  the  Divine  will.  True  ;  a  child  is  ignorant, 
and  therefore  unsuspecting.  Equally  true  it  is,  however, 
that  there  must  be  some  wrong  twist  about  the  knowledge, 
which  leads  a  man  to  be  suspicious  of  the  love  of  God. 
Such  knowledge,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  is  not  warranted  to 
despise  the  child's  ignorance. 

N 


90  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

But,  it  will  be  said  by  some,  there  is  an  Election  of 
Grace ;  and,  therefore,  it  is  impossible  for  a  man  who 
believes  this,  not  to  ask  the  question  Bunyan  did — Am  I 
elected?  Now  there  would  certainly  be  some  sense  in 
this,  if  any  answer  could  be  got  to  the  question.  It  is  a 
very  natural  question,  I  grant :  but  it  becomes  both  foolish 
and  unnatural,  to  push  or  put  it  in  the  face  of  the  notorious 
fact,  that  no  man  can  answer  it  at  all,  and  that  God  never 
will  answer  it  beforehand.  All  that  God  has  promised  to 
do  in  this  matter,  is,  to  enable  those  who  believe  and  obey 
the  Gospel  with  child-like  simplicity,  to  make  their  calling 
and  election  sure. 

What  then,  it  may  be  said,  is  the  use  of  the  doctrine,  or 
the  design  of  it,  in  reference  to  those  who  are  afraid  to 
believe  the  Gospel  for  themselves  ?  It  adds  to  their  fears, 
and  hinders  their  faith,  they  say.  True ;  and  something 
else  would  just  have  the  same  effect  upon  them,  if  there 
were  no  such  doctrine  in  the  Bible,  so  long  as  they  do  not 
set  themselves  to  be  as  little  children  before  God.  It  is  to 
shut  us  up  to  a  child-like  spirit  in  asking  and  hoping  for 
mercy,  that  God  says  he  will  have  mercy  upon  whom  he 
will  have  mercy.  Every  man  must  become  a  little  child 
at  the  Mercy-seat,  if  he  would  be  welcome  there.  No  other 
temper  suits  it :  and  therefore  God  takes  measures  to  make 
us  child-like ;  and  one  of  them  is,  the  revelation  of  His 
sovereignty, — which  says  to  us  in  plain  terms,  "  You 
cannot  force  My  will,  nor  find  out  My  secrets,  nor  open 
the  Lamb's  Book  of  Life :  will  you  then  throw  yourselves 
upon  the  good  pleasure  of  my  will,  just  as  your  little  child 
would  trust  your  good-will,  when  he  had  your  ivord  for 
what  he  wanted  ?  You  have  My  word  for  all  the  mercy 
you  need  ;  and  until  you  take  my  paternal  promise  as  a 
child  would,  you  will  get  nothing  more  to  warrant  or 
encourage  you  to  hope  for  mercy." 

This  is  evidently  the  spirit  of  the  appeal  made  to  us  in 
the  Gospel.     And  it   is  equally  obvious,  that  we  can   do 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  91 

nothing"  better,  indeed  nothing  else  to  any  good  purpose, 
than  just  meet  God's  appeal  as  a  child  would.  To  do  so, 
is  real  manliness,  as  well  as  godliness  j  real  strength  of 
mind,  as  well  as  true  humility :  for  it  is  in  this  child-like 
temper,  the  Cherubim  and  Seraphim,  Angels  and  Arch- 
angels, receive  the  commands  and  promises  of  God,  at  the 
Eternal  Throne.  Their  highest  reasonings,  and  noblest 
principles,  and  sublimest  tastes,  all  resolve  themselves  into 
the  confiding  simplicity  of  a  little  child.  In  this  connexion, 
it  is  not  childish  to  be  child-like !  He  is  childish  in  the 
worst  sense,  who  thinks  it  beneath  him  to  become  a  little 
child,  when  he  listens  to  the  Eternal  Father.  Gabriel 
does  not  think  it  beneath  him,  nor  Michael  unworthy  of 
him. 

It  is  somewhat  curious,  as  well  as  lamentable,  that 
neither  Wesley  nor  Whitefield  saw,  when  they  revived  the 
doctrine  of  Regeneration,  that  a  child-like  spirit  is  what 
the  Saviour  chiefly  means  by  the  New  Birth.  The  man 
who  shall  give  currency  to  this  fact,  without  lessening 
dependence  on  the  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  will,  like 
them,  do  good  service  to  both  the  world  and  the  Church. 
How  can  preachers  on  Regeneration  answer  to  God  or 
man,  for  quoting  this  maxim  so  seldom  ? 


92  LIFE    OF    BUNYAlSr. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


BUNYAN  S    COUNSELLORS. 


Whilst  Bunyan's  mind  was  vibrating  between  hope  and 
fear,  in  regard  to  the  probability  of  his  eventual  conver- 
sion, he  wisely  resolved  to  open  his  mind  to  some  of  those 
Christians  upon  whom  he  saw  "  the  broad  seal  of  Heaven." 
He  had  not  many  such  to  choose  amongst.  "  He  imparted 
his  feelings,"  says  Dr.  Southey,  "to  those  poor  women  whose 
conversation  had  first  brought  him  into  these  perplexities 
and  struggles."  This  was  not  unnatural  nor  unwise. 
Their  conversation  had  convinced  him,  "  of  the  happy  and 
blessed  condition  of  a  truly  godly  man."  Besides,  they 
alone  had  manifested  any  deep  interest  in  his  spiritual 
welfare.  Neither  "  our  Parson,"  nor  any  of  his  flock,  had 
paid  any  attention  to  the  reformed  Tinker,  beyond  com- 
pliments to  his  reformation,  although  he  worshipped  only 
at  Church,  and  must  have  been  seen  there  from  Sabbath  to 
Sabbath,  like  Hannah  in  the  Tabernacle  at  Shiloh,  wearing- 
all  the  marks  *'  of  a  sorrowful  spirit,  and  weeping  sore." 
However  ill-qualified,  therefore,  the  poor  women  at  Bedford 
may  have  been  to 

"  Minister  to  a  mind  diseased," 

they  alone  had  manifested  sympathy  with  Bunyan's  mind 
when  it  was  ignorant.     They  first  talked  at  him,  and  then 
to  him,  whilst  he  was  a  self-conceited  Pharisee ;  and  so  > 
wisely,  that  he  soon  took  the  place,  the  prayer,  and  the  • 
position  of  the  Publican  in  the  Temple.     And  now  with  i 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  93 

equal  wisdom,  and  more  modesty,  they  did  not  trust  them- 
selves to  answer  his  dark  questions,  when  they  saw  his 
wounded  spirit  bleeding ;  but  acquainted  their  Minister 
with  his  case. 

"  About  this  time  I  began,"  he  says,  "  to  break  my  mind 
to  those  poor  people  in  Bedford,  and  to  tell  them  my 
condition  :  which,  when  they  heard,  they  told  Mr.  Gifford 
of  me,  who  himself  also  took  occasion  to  talk  with  me,  and 
was  willing  to  be  well  persuaded  of  me,  though,  I  think, 
from  little  grounds.  But  he  invited  me  to  his  house, 
where  I  should  hear  him  confer  with  others  about  the 
dealings  of  God  with  their  souls." 

"  This  course,"  says  Dr.  Southey,  "  was  little  likely  to 
compose  a  mind  so  agitated."  But  why  not?  What 
likelier  course  could  the  Minister  have  adopted,  than  intro- 
ducing Bunyan  to  hear  the  experience  of  other  anxious 
inquirers,  and  to  share  the  encouragement  addressed  to 
them  ?  It  is  not  fair  to  judge  of  this  course  by  its  results^ 
in  Bunyan's  case.  It  did  well  for  many,  although  not  for 
him ;  and  it  did  not  fail  with  him  for  the  reason  which 
Dr.  Southey  assigns.  He  says,  that  Bunyan's  "  spiritual 
Physician,  in  persuading  him  that  his  heart  was  innately 
and  wholly  wicked,  had  well  nigh  made  him  believe  that  it 
was  hopelessly  and  incurably  so.  False  notions  of  that 
corruption  of  our  nature,  which  it  is  almost  as  perilous  to 
exaggerate  as  to  dissemble,  had  laid  upon  him  a  burthen 
heavy  as  that  with  which  his  own  Christian  begins  his 
pilgrimage."  Now  it  is  certainly  the  fact,  that  the  inter- 
views between  Bunyan  and  Gifford  led  the  former  to  regard 
his  heart  as  "  innately  and  wholly  wicked ;"  and  therefore 
it  is  highly  probable  that  the  latter  said  so.  What  else 
could  he  say,  if  he  spoke  as  the  Oracles  of  God  speak  on 
this  subject?  It  is,  however,  utterly  improbable  that 
Gifford  said  a  word  which  had  any  tendency  to  7nake  or 
lead  Bunyan  to  believe  his  heart  to  be  "  hopelessly  or 
incurably"  wicked.     Gifford  was  the  last  man  in  the  world. 


94  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

to  have  taught  or  taken  this  view  of  Bunyan's  case.  Dr. 
Southey  might  have  seen  this  to  be  the  fact,  even  from  his 
own  picture  of  Giiford.  He  had  been  a  far  worse  man 
both  in  heart  and  hfe  than  the  Tinker ;  and  was  therefore 
altogether  unlikely,  now  that  he  was  a  good  man,  to  lead 
him  to  think  himself  incurably  bad.  Like  John  Newton, 
it  was  impossible  he  could  despair  of  any  one,  after  the 
change  which  took  place  in  his  own  heart. 

Gifford's  history  is  remarkable ;  and  as  he  was,  no  doubt, 
the  original  of  Evangelist,  in  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  it 
deserves  to  be  perpetuated.  He  was  a  Kentish  man,  and 
concerned  in  the  rising  of  that  county  for  the  King.  He 
had  held  the  rank  of  Major  in  the  royal  army,  and  was  a 
thorough  cavalier  in  politics  and  profligacy.  He  was, 
however,  soon  apprehended,  and,  with  eleven  of  his  com- 
panions  in  arms,  sentenced  to  be  hanged.  But  on  the 
night  preceding  his  intended  execution,  his  sister  visited 
him  in  prison ;  and  finding  the  guards  without  fast  asleep, 
and  his  fellow-prisoners  dead  drunk  within,  she  urged  him 
to  escape  for  his  life.  He  did  so,  and  reached  the  fields  in 
safety.  For  nearly  three  days,  however,  he  had  to  hide 
himself  in  a  ditch,  and  to  live  upon  water.  Then  by  the  help 
of  his  friends,  he  was  sent  in  disguise  to  London.  But  that 
was  no  hiding-place  then.  He  therefore  made  his  way 
into  Bedfordshire,  and  was  concealed  by  some  of  the  few 
great  royalists  in  that  county,  until  all  danger  was  over. 
He  then  exchanged  the  sword  for  the  lancet,  and  settled 
in  Bedford  as  a  medical  man.  This  bold  step  may  have 
been,  as  Dr.  Southey  thinks,  impudent,  or  without  any 
"  scruple  concerning  qualifications."  This  was  not  uncom- 
mon at  the  time.  Medicine  was  the  only  Profession  then, 
into  which  an  old  officer  could  thrust  himself.  As  Gifibrd, 
however,  had  been  a  Major  in  the  King's  army,  he  must 
have  been  a  man  of  some  education,  and  may  have  been  a 
man  of  some  skill.  But  however  this  may  be,  he  was  a 
man   of  no   principle,  as  to   religion  or  morals.     Ivimey 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  95 

says,  he  was  "  abandoned  to  vice.^*  Southey  says^  he  was 
"  reckless  and  profligate ;  a  great  drinker  and  gambler ; 
and  oaths  came  from  his  lips  with  habitual  profaneness. 
And  he  hated  the  Puritans  so  heartily  for  the  misery  they 
had  brought  upon  the  nation,  and  upon  himself  in  par- 
ticular, that  he  often  thought  of  killing  a  certain  Anthony 
Harrington,  for  no  other  provocation  than  because  he  was 
a  leading  man  among  persons  of  that  description  in  Bedford." 

Gifford,  although  a  habitual  gambler,  was  seldom  or  ever 
successful.  One  night  he  lost  a  large  sum.  It  drove  him 
almost  mad.  In  his  frenzy,  he  uttered  daring  words 
against  God,  and  cherished  darker  thoughts.  He  was 
about  to  dare  the  worst,  when  his  eye  fell  upon  one  of 
Bolton's  works,  which  arrested  both  his  purpose  and  his 
conscience  effectually.  It  threw  him  into  great  distress  for 
a  short  time :  but  eventually  it  led  him  to  the  Cross. 

The  passage  in  Bolton,  which  met  the  case  of  Gifford,  was 
this : — "  In  the  invitation  of  Christ  to  all  that  labour  and 
are  heavy  laden,  to  come  to  Him  for  rest  to  their  souls, 
there  is  no  exception  of  sins,  times,  nor  places.  And  if 
thou  shouldst  reply.  Yea,  but  alas,  I  am  the  unworthiest 
man  in  the  world  to  draw  near  unto  so  holy  a  God — to 
press  into  so  pure  a  presence — to  expect  upon  the  sudden 
such  glorious,  spiritual,  and  heavenly  advancement.  Most 
impure,  abominable  and  beastly  wretch  that  I  am, — readier 
far  to  sink  into  the  bottom  of  hell,  by  the  unsupportable 
weight  of  my  manifold  heinous  sins  !  I  say  then,  the  Text 
tells  thee  plainly,  that  thou  mightily  mistakest :  for  there- 
fore only  art  thou  fit,  because  thou  feelest  so  sensibly  thy 
unfitness,  unworthiness,  vileness,  wretchedness.  The  sorer 
and  heavier  thy  burden  is,  the  rather  thou  shouldst  come. 
It  is  such  as  thou,  whom  Christ  here  specially  aims  at, 
invites  and  accepts."  From  such  views  of  Christ's  gracious 
intentions,  and  especially  from  clear  views  of  the  precious 
blood  of  Atonement,  Gifford  was  soon  led  into  both  joy 
and  peace  in  believing.     So  fully  did  he  come  to  Christ, 


96  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

that  the  "rest"  of  his  soul  was  never  disturbed  afterwards. 
He  entered  into  such  rest,  or  as  Dr.  Southey  well  calls  it, 
"  so  exalted  and  yet  so  happy  a  state  of  mind,  that  from 
that  time  till  within  a  few  days  of  his  death,  he  declared — 
"  he  lost  not  the  light  of  God's  countenance — no  not  for 
an  hour." — Soutkey's  Bunyan. 

One  of  GifFord's  first  steps  after  his  conversion,  was,  to 
seek  the  company  and  fellowship  of  the  Puritans,  whom  he 
had  "  hated  so  heartily."  This  is  not  so  wonderful  as  his 
betaking  himself  to  read  Bolton,  whilst  that  hatred  was 
exasperated  by  the  frenzy  of  atheistical  despair.  It  was 
only  natural  now,  that  he  should  bring  forth  fruits  meet 
for  repentance,  by  blessing  those  whom  he  had  so  often 
and  bitterly  cursed.  Besides,  where,  but  amongst  the 
Puritans,  could  he  have  found  men  suited  to  his  new  tastes  ? 
These  were  now  virtuous  and  holy ;  and  he  sought  for 
their  gratification  only  at  "  the  meetings  of  the  persons 
whom  he  had  formerly  most  despised :"  a  plain  proof  that 
he  ceased  to  think,  that  the  Puritans  had  brought  "  much 
misery  upon  the  nation,  or  on  himself  in  particular."  Thus 
he  changed  his  mind  on  this  point ;  and  evidently  because 
he  saw  the  utter  injustice  of  his  former  suspicions.  He 
had  hated  the  Puritans  for  the  reason  Dr.  Southey  assigns  ; 
but  now  he  loved  them,  because  he  found  that  reason  to 
be  (what  it  still  is)  a  mere  prejudice  of  education,  or  a 
party-pretence.  It  was  the  long  and  systematic  oppression 
of  Puritanism  by  the  Crown  and  the  Mitre,  that  created 
the  indignant  reaction  of  popular  opinion  and  feeling, 
which  brought  misery  upon  the  nation. 

The  Bedford  Puritans  were  very  shy  of  Gifford's  first 
advances  to  them.  Like  the  disciples  at  Jerusalem  with 
Saul  of  Tarsus,  "  they  were  all  afraid  of  him,  and  believed 
not  that  he  was  a  disciple."  But  although  both  shunned 
and  repulsed  by  them  at  first,  he  persevered  in  courting 
their  fellowship.  He  seems  even  to  have  thrust  himself 
upon  them  again  and  again,  before  he  could  gain  a  hearing 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  97 

from  them  in  public  or  private.  And  even  when  he  had 
convinced  them  of  his  sincerity,  they  were  very  slow  in 
encouraging  his  wish  to  preach,  and  still  slower  in  calling 
him  to  be  their  pastor.  He  carried  his  point,  however,  by 
perseverance,  in  both  objects  ;  and  was  remarkably  useful. 
What  Izaak  Walton  says  of  Dr.  Donne,  may  be  said  of 
Gifford,  "  None  was  so  like  St.  Augustine  before  his  con- 
version ;  nor  so  like  St.  Ambrose  after  it."  On  his  death- 
bed he  could  say  with  Donne,  and  with  equal  truth,  "  I 
have  quieted  the  consciences  of  many  that  groaned  under 
a  wounded  spirit." — Preface  to  Donne's  Sermons,  hy 
Iz.  Walton. 

Bunyan  himself  says  of  "  holy  Mr.  Gifford,"  as  he  well 
calls  him,  "  This  man  made  it  his  business  to  deliver  the 
people  of  God  from  all  those  hard  and  unsound  tests,  that 
by  nature  we  are  prone  to."  So  far,  therefore,  he  was 
evidently  an  invaluable  friend  to  Bunyan,  although  at  first 
his  distress  increased  under  him.  It  would  have  done  so, 
in  some  form,  under  any  spiritual  guide ;  for  he  was  a  self- 
tormentor,  as  well  as  a  tempted  man.  Conder  says,  that 
"  Gifford  had  not  penetration  enough  to  discover  the 
character  of  the  extraordinary  man  thus  brought  under  his 
notice."  If  this  mean  that  he  could  not  discern  Bunyan's 
genius,  it  is  only  necessary  to  say  that  his  genius  had  not 
then  shown  itself;  and  that  Gifford  was  not  looking  for 
gifts,  but  for  marks  of  grace.  If,  however,  it  mean,  that 
he  had  not  penetration  enough  to  discover  the  extraordinary 
twists  of  Bunyan's  mind,  it  is  only  too  true ;  and  proves 
that  he  was  no  Physician,  whatever  he  may  have  been  as  a 
Surgeon. 

Bunyan's  friends,  indeed,  were  all  as  ignorant  of  his 
malady  as  himself.  They  neither  saw  nor  suspected  any 
thing  in  his  case,  but  temptation  and  the  power  of  con- 
science ;  and,  accordingly,  suggested  nothing  to  him  but 
spiritual  consolation.  This,  of  course,  he  both  needed  and 
deserved  from  them  :  but  he  needed  also  medical  treatment, 


98  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

and  more  interesting  employment  than  tinkering.  I  do 
not  know  that  he  was  as  poor  a  hand  at  mending  old 
kettles,  as  Carey  was  at  making  new  shoes;  but  he  was 
as  evidently  out  of  his  element.  His  craft  gave  neither 
pleasure  nor  play  to  his  sea-like  restlessness  of  mind,  and 
but  little  bracing  to  his  nerves,  except  when  he  was 
walking  his  rounds :  and  the  clink  of  the  hammer,  and  the 
rasp  of  the  file,  irritated  them  more  than  his  exercise  could 
counteract.  He  wanted,  although  he  knew  it  not,  something 
to  do,  which  would  have  expended  the  surplus  energy  of 
his  mind,  or  absorbed  his  attention  during  the  greater  part 
of  every  day,  or  compelled  him  to  think  about  others  as 
well  as  himself.  Had  Gilford  set  him  to  teach  the  poor 
children  of  Elstow  to  read  the  Bible  on  the  Sabbath 
evenings  or  mornings,  as  well  as  set  him  to  the  study  of 
his  own  heart  and  experience,  Bunyan  would  have  plunged 
into  the  work,  and  thus  lost  sight  of  himself  for  the  time, 
in  the  pleasure  of  doing  good.  But  it  is  useless  to  regret 
now,  except  in  order  to  warn  others  against  thinking  of 
themselves  only,  and  against  living  only  to  think.  We 
shall  soon  see  that  when  Bunyan  began  to  preach  and 
write  for  the  benefit  of  others,  he  soon  got  over  his  personal 
fears. 

One  of  his  counsellors  must  have  been  a  very  weak  man : 
for  he  gave  in  at  once  to  the  absurd  fear,  that  Bunyan  had 
"  sinned  the  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost."  "  I  told  him  all 
my  case,"  he  says,  "  and  also,  that  I  was  afraid  I  hadj 
*  committed  the  unpardonable  sin.'  He  said,  he  thought 
so  too.  Here,  therefore,  I  had  but  cold  comfort."  Anc 
yet,  this  man  was  an  "  antient  Christian,"  by  report ! 
Young  as  Bunyan  was,  however,  he  had  sense  enough  to 
see  that  a  man,  who  could  take  this  for  granted,  so  readily 
and  coolly,  was  any  thing  but  a  wise  man.  "  Talking  a 
little  more  with  him,"  he  says,  "  I  found  him,  though  a  good 
man,  a  stranger  to  much  combat  with  the  devil.  Wherefore 
I  went  again  to  God  for  mercy  still,  as  well  as  I  could." 


LIFE  OF   BUNYAN.  99 

His  other  Counsellors,  at  this  time,  were  both  kinder 
and  wiser.  "  They  would  pity  me,"  he  says,  *'  and  would 
tell  me  of  the  Promises."  What  else  could  they  do  ?  The 
pity  of  Christians,  and  the  promises  of  God,  had  lifted 
them  over  their  own  fears,  and  would  have  placed  his  feet 
upon  a  Rock  too,  had  his  head  or  his  nerves  been  like 
theirs.  Christian  sympathy,  and  the  same  promises,  did 
so  eventually  and  effectually,  when  he  became  calm  enough 
to  appreciate  them.  Even  before  that,  Gifford's  doctrine 
contributed  much  to  his  "  stability  "  in  holy  principles  and 
habits,  although  not  in  hope  or  peace. 

He  heard  also  at  this  time  a  preacher,  who  comforted 
him  a  little  by  grafting  upon  the  Canticles,  according  to 
the  fashion  of  that  day,  truths  which,  as  Dr.  Southey  justly 
says,  "  he  might  have  found  in  every  page  of  the  Gospel, 
had  there  not  been  a  mist  before  his  understanding." 

I  thus  characterize  as  well  as  enumerate  Bunyan's  first 
guides  in  the  dreary  wilderness  of  temptation,  that  the 
reader  may  not  wonder  too  much  at  either  his  mistakes, 
or  his  terrors.  There  was  no  Great-Heart,  although 
many  a  good-hearty  amongst  his  fellow  pilgrims  then. 
Besides,  he  was  not  always  frank  with  them.  I  mean,  he 
was  equally  afraid  to  tell  them  all  his  woe,  and  to  hear  all 
their  opinion.  Not,  however,  that  he  suspected  them  of 
any  prejudice  or  want  of  sympathy :  but  he  imagined  at 
times,  that  God  had  said  to  them,  "  Pray  not  for  him,  for 
I  have  rejected  him."  "  I  thought,"  he  says,  "  that  God 
had  ivhispered  this  to  some  of  them  ; — only  they  durst  not 
tell  me,  neither  durst  I  ask  them  of  it,  for  fear  if  it  should 
be  so,  it  would  make  me  quite  beside  myself."  Poor 
Bunyan !  Thy  contemporaries,  Milton,  Owen,  Baxter,  and 
Jeremy  Taylor,  ought  to  have  been  the  friends.  And 
had  they  known  thee,  they  would. 


100  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


BUNYAN  S    RELAPSES. 


Bunyan's  relapses  in  religion  were  neither  slight  nor 
short ;  but  none  of  them  were  practical.  Even  when  his 
heart  lost  all  relish  and  desire  for  vspiritual  things,  his 
conscience  was  all  alive  and  quivering  with  the  hatred  of 
sin.  He  himself  was  struck  with  this  strange  anomaly  in 
his  character ;  and  I  point  it  out,  to  prove  that  a  man  may 
believe  his  "  heart  to  be  innately  and  wholly  wicked,"  and 
yet  hate  and  avoid  sin,  only  the  more  on  that  very  account ; 
— just  as  a  man  who  believes  himself  to  be  radically  con- 
sumptive^  may  avoid  stimulants. 

When  Bunyan  reviewed  this  contrast  between  the  hard- 
ness of  his  heart  and  the  tenderness  of  his  conscience,  he 
used  a  comparison  peculiarly  his  own ;  but  which  none  of 
his  Biographers  have  ventured  to  explain.  "  My  hinder 
parts,"  he  says,  "  were  inward,  all  the  while."  He  refers 
to  the  position  of  the  twelve  Oxen  of  brass,  under  the 
Molten  Sea  of  the  temple.  "  The  sea  was  set  above  upon 
them,  and  all  their  hinder  parts  were  inward."  2  Chron. 
iv.  4.  Only  their  majestic  front  was  seen,  under  the  lily- 
wreathed  brim  of  the  magnificent  Laver.  This  emblem 
he  explains  and  applies  with  great  point,  in  his  "  Temple 
Spiritualized."  Its  application  to  himself  he  states  thus  in 
his  "  Grace  Abounding,"  "  O,  how  gingerly  (cautiously) 
did  I  then  go,  in  all  I  did  or  said !  I  durst  not  take  a  pinJ 
or  stick  though  not  so  big  as  a  straw :  for  my  conscience 
now  was  sore,  and  would  start  at  every  touch.     I  coulc 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  101 

not  HOW  tell  how  to  speak  my  ivordst  for  fear  I  should 
1  misplace  them.      I  found  myself  as  in  a  miry  bog",  that 
shook  if  I  did  but  stir." 

Such  his  conscience  remained,  even  whilst  the  following- 
relapses  went  on  in  his  heart.  "  My  heart  would  not  be 
moved  to  mind  that  which  was  good.  It  began  to  be 
careless  both  of  my  soul  and  heaven,  and  to  work  at  a  rate 
it  never  did  before.  Now  I  evidently  found,  that  lusts  and 
corruptions  put  forth  themselves  within  me,  in  wicked 
thoughts  and  desires  which  I  did  not  regard  (notice)  before. 
My  heart  would  now  continually  hang  back,  both  to  and 
in  every  duty ;  and  was  as  a  clog  on  the  leg  of  a  bird,  to 
hinder  it  from  flying.  Nay,  I  thought, — now  I  grow  worse 
and  worse  ;  now  I  am  farther  off  from  conversion  than 
ever  I  was  before :  wherefore  I  began  to  sink  greatly,  and 
began  to  entertain  such  discouragement  in  my  heart  as  laid 
me  low  as  hell.  If  I  now  should  have  burned  at  a  stake, 
I  could  not  believe  that  Christ  had  a  love  for  me.  Alas, 
I  could  neither  hear  Him,  nor  see  Him,  nor  feel  Him, 
nor  savour  any  of  His  things.  I  was  driven  as  with  a 
tempest !  My  heaji't  ivould  be  unclean,  and  the  Canaanites 
would  dwell  in  the  land.  All  my  sense  and  feeling  were 
against  me.  I  saw  I  had  a  heart  that  would  sin,  and  that 
lay  under  a  Law  that  would  condemn." 

*'  Further,  in  these  days,  I  would  find  my  heart  shut 
itself  up  against  the  Lord,  and  against  his  holy  word.  I 
have  found  my  unbelief  to  set,  as  it  were,  the  shoulder  to 
the  door,  to  keep  Him  out :  and  that  too  even, — when  I 
have  with  many  a  bitter  sigh  cried,  Good  Lord,  break  it 
open.  Lord,  break  these  *  gates  of  brass,'  and  cut  these 
*  bars  of  iron  asunder.*  " 

The   only  thing  which  operated  as  a  check  upon  this 

i  alienation  and  alarm,  was,  a  vague  hope  that  he  might, 

like  Cyrus,  be  intended  for  some  service  in  the  cause  of 

God  :    "  that  word  would  sometimes  create  in  my  heart  a 

peaceable  pa^ise, — *  I  girded  thee,  though  thou  hast  not 


102  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

known  me.'  "  We  thus  find  him  again  taking*  up  with  one 
of  the  very  last  Texts,  which  we  should  expect  him  to 
apply  to  himself  at  such  a  time.  The  application  is  not, 
however,  so  forced  or  far-fetched  as  it  seems  at  first  sig-ht. 
It  is,  in  fact,  quite  in  keeping-  with  the  law  of  his  associa- 
tions :  for  he  linked  his  ideas  together  by  sounds  or 
sensations.  When  he  did  pray  at  all  now,  it  was  that  "  the 
fears  and  aversions  which,  like  gates  of  brass  and  bars  of 
iron,"  shut  up  his  heart  against  godliness,  might  be  broken. 
This  was  the  form  which  his  prayers  took ;  and  being  also 
the  form  of  the  promise  made  to  Cyrus,  he  tried  to  class 
himself,  so  far,  with  Cyrus.  Bunyan  took,  however, 
another  view  of  these  sad  failings  when  he  wrote  the 
history  of  them  :  "  These  things,"  he  says,  "  have  often 
made  me  think  of  the  child,  which  the  father  brought  to 
Christ ;  who,  while  he  was  yet  coming  to  Him,  was  thrown 
down  by  the  devil,  and  also  so  rent  and  torn  by  him,  that 
he  lay  and  wallowed,  foaming." 

His  distress  really  came  to  this  soon ;  although  Satan 
had,  perhaps,  less  to  do  with  it  than  with  some  former  and 
subsequent  temptations  of  another  kind.  "  My  original  and 
inward  pollution,"  he  exclaims,  "  that,  that^  was  my  plague 
and  affliction  ; — that,  I  saw  always  putting  itself  forth  within 
me  at  a  dreadful  rate ; — that,  I  had  the  guilt  of  to  amaze- 
ment. By  reason  of  that,  I  was  more  loathsome  in  mine  own 
eyes  than  a  toad ;  and  I  thought  I  was  so  in  God's  eyes 
too.  Sin  and  corruption,  I  said,  would  as  naturally  bubble 
out  of  my  heart,  as  water  would  bubble  out  of  a  fountain. 
I  thought  now,  that  every  one  had  a  better  heart  than  I 
had.  I  could  have  changed  hearts  with  any  body.  I  thought 
none  but  the  devil  himself  could  equalize  me  for  inward 
wickedness  and  pollution  of  mind." 

There  is  extravagance  in  this,  certainly:  but  there  is 
also  much  sober  truth  in  it.  For  although  there  were 
worse  hearts  in  Bedford,  and  anywhere,  than  Bunyan's,  his 
heart  was  now  both  estranged  and  averse  to  meditative  and 


LIFE    OF    BUiN'YAN.  103 

devotional  piety.  "  The  root  of  the  Matter  "  was  in  him  : 
but  it  was  overrun  with  the  matted  weeds  of  ignorance, 
fear,  and  suspicion.  Even  this  is  not  all  the  truth  concern- 
ing- him,  at  this  time.  Like  Jonah,  he  was  ''angry"  with 
God,  because  the  Gourds  under  which  he  wanted  to  screen 
his  head,  withered  as  fast  as  they  had  sprung  up.  He  did 
not  think  the  "  ivee  bush  "  of  a  simple  Promise  **  better  than 
nae  bield  •"  but  almost  demanded  that  the  stately  Cedars  of 
Calling  and  Election,  should  spring  *'  up  in  a  night,"  and 
shelter  him  for  ever. 

This  is  the  real  secret  of  Bunyan's  hardness  of  heart : 
He  could  not  get  what  he  wanted,  in  his  own  way, 
nor  at  his  own  time ;  and  therefore,  he  "  charged  God 
foolishly,"  and  in  no  small  bitterness  as  well  as  grief  of 
spirit.  "  Sure,  thought  I,"  he  exclaims,  "  I  am  forsaken 
of  God ;  sure,  I  am  given  up  to  the  devil,  and  to  a 
reprobate  mind.  Now  I  was  sorry  that  God  had  made  me 
man  ;  for  I  feared  I  was  a  reprobate.  Yea,  I  thought  it 
impossible  that  ever  I  should  arrive  to  so  much  godliness 
of  heart,  as  to  thank  God  that  he  had  made  me  a  man.  I 
counted  myself  alone,  and  above  all  men  unblessed.  The 
beasts,  birds,  fishes — I  blessed  their  condition ;  for  they 
had  not  a  sinful  nature,  and  were  not  obnoxious  to  the 
wrath  of  God.  I  could  have  rejoiced  had  my  condition 
been  as  theirs.  I  counted  man — as  unconverted — the  most 
doleful  of  all  creatures." 

There  is  more  than  self-abasement,  or  even  than  self- 
condemnation,  in  this  wild  reasoning.  It  breathes  much 
of  pride  and  self-will  also.  1  would  not  reprehend  nor 
characterize  it  thus  harshly,  had  it  been  but  the  occasional 
ebullition  of  his  mind.  Such  dark  and  daring  regrets  may 
flash  across  the  spirit  for  a  moment,  without  proving  much 
against  its  general  temperament :  but  when  they  last  and 
are  indulged  for  years,  they  do  prove  that  God  is  arraigned 
as  well  as  dreaded.  Now  this  temper  did  last  long. 
Bunyan  himself  says,  "  Thus  I  continued  a  long  while, 


104  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

even  for  some  years  together."  The  misery  he  endured 
whilst  indulging-  this  wrong  spirit,  must  not,  therefore,  be 
allowed  to  hide  or  soften  its  badness.  It  was  proud  and 
peevish,  as  well  as  despairing.  He  did  all  but  curse  the 
day  of  his  birth. 

This  is  a  painful  conclusion :  but  it  is  not  a  rash  one  ; 
nor  is  there  any  reason  to  wonder,  that  Bunyan's  heart 
became  thus  exasperated  against  God.  The  heart  of  any 
man  is  capable  of  all  this,  if  he  once  give  way  to  despair. 
The  heart  will  then  harden,  just  in  proportion  as  it  suffers. 
Besides,  the  very  claims  of  Religion  upon  it,  can  exasperate 
its  enmity  against  God,  when  they  are  looked  at  in  all  their 
length  and  breadth.  Such  a  look  of  them,  Bunyan  had 
taken;  and  their  "Law"  not  only  wrought  "wrath,"  but 
also,  as  in  the  case  of  Paul,  "  all  manner  of  concupiscence." 
He  saw  what  he  ought  to  be  in  heart  and  spirit,  and  he  did 
not  like  it.  He  was  not  unwilling  to  be  moral ;  but  he 
was  averse  to  spirituality  and  heavenlymindedness,  when  he 
found  that  they  had  to  be  cultivated  by  watchfulness  and 
prayer,  and  to  be  maintained  as  duties  even  when  hope  was 
low  and  feeling  languid.  Thus  it  was  not  "false  notions" 
of  his  own  depravity,  which  "  well  nigh  made  him  believe 
that  his  heart  was  hopelessly  and  incurably  "  depraved :  but 
it  was  a  clear  sight  and  a  deep  sense  of  what  his  heart  ought 
to  be,  that  oifended  him  at  first,  and  afterwards  exasperated 
him,  when  he  found  no  way  of  prying  into  either  the  Ark 
of  the  divine  purposes,  or  the  Lamb's  book  of  life.  Dis- 
appointments of  this  kind  can  mortify  as  well  as  alarm ; 
harden  as  well  as  horrify  the  mind :  and  the  man  who  can 
"  observe  the  symptoms  whilst  in  the  paroxysms,"  will 
inevitably,  and  not  unreasonably,  fall  in  with  God's 
opinion,  even  to  the  very  letter,  that  "  the  heart  is  deceit- 
ful above  all  things,  and  desperately  wicked."  The  Oracle 
adds  the  question,  "  Who  can  know  it  ?"  Bunyan  knew 
it  better  than  Jeremy  Taylor, — who  was  at  this  time 
bending  all  the  force  of  his  genius  and  erudition  against 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  105 

even  the  qualified  creed  of  his  own  Church,  on  the  subject 
of  original  and  inherent  sin  ;  and  better  too  than  Anthony 
Burg-ess,  although  he  was  sustaining  Augustine  against 
Taylor ;  for  Bunyan  judged  from  experience,  and  not  from 
books  nor  tradition. 

The  difference  of  opinion  on  this  subject,  between 
Bunyan  and  Bishop  Taylor,  is  easily  accounted  for.  Both 
reasoned  about  the  human  heart  from  their  oivn  hearts,  and 
in  reference  to  widely  different  circumstances.  Taylor  s 
views  of  the  heart  were  modified  by  his  consciousness  of 
what  his  own  heart  would  "  indite "  upon  an  episcopal 
throne,  or  in  the  King's  Chapel ;  and  Bunyan,  by  what 
tinkering,  travelling,  and  poverty,  opposed  to  watchfulness 
and  devotion.  No  thinking  man  can  wonder,  that  those 
who  can  rise  to  affluence  or  influence  by  eminent  piety, 
should  feel  less  aversion  to  it  at  first,  than  those  who 
cannot  better  their  worldly  circumstances  at  all.  The 
heart  does  not  writhe  nor  rise  against  spiritual  religion, 
until  much  of  it  is  required,  and  no  temporal  advantage  be 
seen  to  accrue  from  it.  I  make  this  remark  in  connexion 
with  Jeremy  Taylor,  because  he  is  as  justly  venerated  as 
he  is  well  known,  and  because  he  is  infinitely  beyond  all 
suspicion  of  direct  worldly-mindedness.  He  retained  both 
|his  greatness  and  spirituality,  under  poverty  and  suffering. 
But  still,  he  reasoned  and  wrote,  with  Mitres  and  Palaces 
in  his  memory  and  imagination  ;  and  the  prospect  of 
restoring  them,  although  not  for  himself,  made  him  think 
too  well  of  human  nature,  because  he  saw  that  it  had  no 
great  objection  to  be  even 

I  "  Twice  a  saint  in  lawn." 

He  himself  would  have  been  a  saint  in  sackcloth,  after  his 
principles  were  fixed  and  his  character  formed  :  but  the 
question  is,  would  he  not  have  thought  worse  of  human 
mature,  had  he  been  as  like  the  Tinker  in  condition  and 
'education  at  first,  as  he  was  in  genius  and  mental  energy  ? 

p 


106  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Bunyan  did  not  always  judge  ill  at  this  time,  either  of 
himself  or  of  others.  He  could  see  the  folly  of  others  in 
distressing-  themselves  about  earthly  thing's,  even  when  he 
was  blind  to  his  own  folly  in  vexing"  himself  about  "  secret 
things."  A  sounder  judgment  of  "  the  course  of  this 
world"  than  the  following,  it  would  not  be  easy  to  quote 
or  conceive  : — "  While  I  was  thus  afflicted  with  the  fears  of 
my  own  damnation,  there  were  two  things  would  make  me 
wonder.  The  one  was, — when  I  saw  people  hunting  after 
the  things  of  this  life,  as  if  they  should  live  here  always. 
The  other  was, — when  I  found  Professors  much  distressed 
and  cast  down  when  they  met  with  outward  losses,  as  of 
husband,  wife,  child,  &c.  Lord,  thought  I, — what  a-do  is 
here  about  such  little  things  as  these !  What  seeking  after 
carnal  things  by  some,  and  what  grief  in  others  for  the  loss 
of  them !"  These  are  not  unfair  nor  unfeeling  exclama- 
tions. He  is  no  wise  man  who  does  not  wonder  and  weep 
too,  to  see  how  all  losses,  but  the  loss  of  the  soul,  are 
deprecated  and  deplored  ;  whilst  that  is  not  avoided  nor 
feared  by  the  generality.  Bunyan  went  too  far  when  he 
added,  "  If  they  so  much  labour  after,  and  shed  so  many 
tears  for,  the  things  of  this  present  life, — how  am  I  to  be 
bemoaned,  pitied,  and  prayed  for?  My  soul  is  dying! 
My  soul  is  damning !"  This  conclusion  was  rash  :  but  the  ■ 
reasoning  is  sound.  So  it  is  in  the  following  exclamation, 
"  Were  my  soul  but  in  a  good  condition,  and  were  I  but  i 
sure  of  it,  ah !  how  rich  should  I  esteem  myself,  though 
blessed  with  but  bread  and  water.  I  should  count  those 
but  small  afflictions,  and  bear  them  as  little  burthens. 
But  a  wounded  spirit  who  can  bear  ?" 

Nothing,  however,  shows  more  the  general  soundness  of 
Bunyan's  judgment,  during  the  years  this  despair  lasted 
than  his  willingness  to  bear  "  a  wounded  spirit,"  rather 
than  take  up  with  a  false  peace,  or  a  superficial  cure.  He 
dreaded  a  seired  conscience  more  than  a  sad  heart.  Hence 
he  says,  with  touching  simplicity,  and  with  holy  jealousy,- 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  107 

and  with  great  wisdom, — "  Though  I  was  much  troubled, 
and  tossed,  and  afflicted,  with  the  sight,  sense,  and  terror 
of  my  own  wickedness,  yet  I  was  afraid  to  let  this  sight 
and  sense  g-o  quite  off  my  mind :  for  I  found,  that  unless 
guilt  of  conscience  was  taken  off  the  right  way — by  the 
Blood  of  Christ — a  man  grew  rather  icorse  for  the  loss  of 
his  trouble  of  mind.  Wherefore,  if  my  guilt  lay  hard  upon 
me, — then  would  I  cry  that  the  blood  of  Christ  might  take 
it  off.  And  if  it  was  going  off  without  it  (for  the  sense  of 
sin  would  be  sometimes  as  if  it  would  die  and  go  quite 
away),  then  I  would  also  strive  to  fetch  it  upon  my  heart 
again,  by  bringing  the  punishment  of  sin  in  hell-fire  upon 
my  spirits ;  and  would  cry.  Lord,  let  it  not  go  off  my 
heart,  but  in  the  right  way — by  the  blood  of  Christ,  and 
the  application  of  Thy  mercy,  through  Him,  to  my  souL 
For  that  Scripture  did  lay  much  upon  me,  *  without 
shedding  of  blood  there  is  no  remission.'  Heb.  ix.  22. 
And  that  which  made  me  more  afraid  of  this,  was, — 
because  I  had  seen  some  who,  though  when  they  were 
under  the  wounds  of  conscience  would  pray  and  cry,  yet, 
seeking  rather  present  ease  from  their  trouble  than  pardon 
for  their  sin,  cared  not  how  they  lost  their  guilt,  so  they 
got  it  out  of  their  mind.  Now  having  got  it  off  the  wrong 
way,  it  was  not  sanctified  unto  them :  and  (accordingly) 
they  grew  harder,  and  blinder,  and  more  wicked  after  their 
trouble.  This  made  me  afraid,  and  made  me  cry  to  God 
the  more,  that  it  might  not  be  so  with  me." 

Much  as  I  admire  the  heroism  of  the  Martyrs,  who 
would  not  "  accept  deliverance "  from  the  stake  or  the 
wheel,  at  the  expense  of  even  a  nod,  or  a  grain  of  incense, 
to  the  national  altars  of  Rome,  I  admire  still  more  the 
heroism  of  Bunyan,  in  thus  preferring  to  bear,  for  years, 
the  agonies  of  "  a  wounded  spirit,"  rather  than  risk  the 
purity  or  the  tenderness  of  his  conscience.  This  is  the 
very  highest  homage  which  faith  or  patience  can  pay  to  the 
authority  of  moral  Law.     Whoever  does  not  feel  this,  does 


108  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

not  know  what  Job  or  Bunyan  meant  by  "a  wounded 
spirit."  Those  who  do,  will  not  blame  me  for  asking  them 
to  pause  here, — to  contemplate  the  holy  integrity  of  John 
Bunyan,  whilst  a  Tinker,  in  striving  to  fetch  back  upon  his 
heart  his  overwhelming  sense  of  guilt ;  and  in  crying  to 
God,  "  let  it  not  go  off;"  and  in  bringing  "  the  pains  pf 
Hell "  around  himself,  lest  it  should  go  off  in  a  wrong  way, 
or  in  any  way,  but  by  the  blood  of  Christ.  Even  those 
who  cannot  sympathize  with  his  distress,  must  admire  his 
self-denying  honesty. 

We  do  not  wonder  that  a  "  comforting  time"  came  to 
this  man,  at  the  close  of  such  an  eifort  to  maintain  a  good 
conscience  towards  God.  It  did  come  at  length,  although 
it  tarried  long,  and  continued  but  for  a  short  season.  "  I 
heard  one,"  he  says,  *'  preach  a  sermon  on  these  words  in 
the  Song,  *  Behold  thou  art  fair  my  Love.'  But  at  that 
time,  he  made  these  two  words,  *  My  Love,'  his  chief  and 
subject  matter.  After  he  had  a  little  opened  the  Text,  he 
observed  these  several  conclusions,  L  That  the  Church, 
and  so  every  saved  soul,  is  Christ's  Love,  (even)  when 
loveless.  2.  Is  Christ's  Love  without  a  cause.  3.  Christ's 
Love  hath  been  hated  of  the  world.  4.  Is  Christ's  Love 
under  temptation  and  utter  distraction.  5.  Is  Christ's 
Love  from  first  to  last. 

"  But  I  got  nothing,  until  he  came  to  the  fourth  par- 
ticular, (when)  this  was  the  word  he  said, — *  If  it  be  so, 
that  the  saved  soul  is  Christ's  Love  when  under  temptation 
and  distraction,  then  Poor  Tempted  Soul,  when  thou  art 
assaulted  and  afflicted  with  temptations  and  hiding  of  God's 
face,  yet  think  on  these  two  words.  My  Love,  still.'  So 
as  I  was  going  home,  these  words  came  again  into  my 
thoughts :  and  I  well  remember,  I  said  this  in  my  heart  as 
they  came  in, — what  shall  I  get  by  thinking  on  these  two 
words .?  This  thought  had  no  sooner  passed  through  my 
heart,  but  the  words  began  to  kindle  thus  in  my  spirit, 
twenty  times  together, — '  Thou  art  my  love,  thou  art  my 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  109 

love !  And  still  as  they  ran  in  my  mind,  they  waxed 
warmer  and  warmer,  and  began  to  make  me  look  up. 
But  being-  as  yet  between  Hope  and  Fear,  I  still  replied  in 
my  heart, — but  is  it  true  ;  but  is  it  true  ?  At  which  that 
sentence  fell  upon  me,  '  He  wist  not  that  it  was  true,  which 
was  done  unto  him  of  the  Angel.'    Acts  xii.  9. 

"  Then, — I  began  to  ^\\e  place  to  the  word  which,  with 
power,  did  over  and  over  make  this  'joyful  sound'  within 
my  soul ; — *  Thou  art  my  love,  and  nothing  shall  separate 
thee  from  my  love.'  With  that  my  heart  was  filled ^m//  of 
comfort  and  hope.  And  now  I  could  believe  that  my  sins 
loould  be  forgiven  me.  Yea,  I  was  now  so  taken  with  the 
love  and  mercy  of  God,  that  I  remember  I  could  not  tell 
how  to  contain  till  I  got  home.  I  thought  I  could  have 
spoken  of  His  love,  and  told  of  His  mercy  to  me,  even  to 
the  very  Crows  that  sat  on  the  ploughed  lands  before  me, 
had  they  been  capable  to  have  understood  me." 

This  wish  to  speak  to  the  crows,  is  no  weakness.  It  is 
not  unnatural,  however  unusual  it  may  be.  David  went 
lower  than  Bunyan,  and  called  even  on  *'  creeping  things ^^ 
as  well  as  upon  "  flying  fowl  and  all  cattle,"  to  praise  the 
Lord  with  him.  Whenever  his  adoring  gratitude  became 
unspeakable  to  his  lips,  or  unutterable  by  his  harp,  he 
invariably  devolved  the  song  of  praise,  not  only  upon  all 
the  armies  of  Heaven,  but  upon  all  the  works  of  Nature 
also.  He  turned  the  Universe  into  a  vast  Orchestra,  and 
tuned  all  its  voices  to  the  melody  of  his  own  heart.  Not 
only  must  all  the  Angels  around  the  throne  assist  his 
mighty  joys  and  grateful  feelings,  but  the  sun  and  moon, 
and  all  the  stars  of  light,  must  join  the  song.  The  waters 
above  and  beneath  the  firmament,  must  roll  to  music,  and 
even  the  storms  of  winter  keep  time  and  tune  with  the 
harp  of  Judah.  He  blended  in  his  Hallelujah  Chorus,  the 
hum  of  the  Bee,  and  the  hymn  of  the  Archangel.  Bunyan 
remembered  this,  when  his  own  harp  required  help ;  and 
thus  wished  to  tell  the  crows  his  joy.     The  fact  is,  there 


110  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

is  a  "  fulness  of  heart,"  which  must  speak,  and  yet  cannot 
speak  fast  enough,  nor  loud  enough. 

Bunyan  wanted  to  relieve  his  heart  at  this  time,  by 
writing  also.  "  I  said  in  my  soul — with  much  gladness — 
Well,  would  I  had  a  pen  and  ink  Iiere,  I  would  write  this 
down  before  I  go  any  further."  Happy  wish,  for  us  and 
the  world!  It  was  i\\Q  gertji  of  his  authorship.  Critics 
differ  about  the  real  germ  of  his  Pilgrim  :  but  the  incapacity 
of  the  Crows  to  understand  him,  originated  his  love  to  the 
pen.  This  was  as  happy  an  accident  as  the  fall  of  the 
apple  which,  it  is  said,  suggested  to  Newton,  the  doctrine 
of  Gravitation.  Theology  owes  as  much  to  John  Bunyan's 
pen,  as  Astronomy  to  Newton's.  His  Pilgrim,  although  it 
added  nothing  to  the  stock  of  theological  knowledge,, 
softened  some  of  its  harsh  points,  and  simplified  not  a  few 
of  its  mysticisms  j  and  what  is  far  better, — it  has  prepared 
millions  of  minds  to  understand  sound  divinity.  But  for 
it,  how  many  would  have  had  no  taste  at  all  for  reading 
either  Theology  or  Scripture  ?  "  It  will  continue,"  says 
Montgomery,  "  to  be  a  Book  exercising  more  influence 
over  minds  of  every  class,  than  the  most  refined  and 
sublime  genius,  with  all  the  advantages  of  education  and 
good  fortune,  has  been  able  to  rival,  in  this  respect." 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  Ill 


CHAPTER  X. 


BUNYAN  S    TEMPTATIONS. 


We  come  now  to  that  mysterious  period  in  the  history  of 
Bunyan,  concerning  which  Philosophy  must  be  silent,  or 
say  with  Relig-ion,  "  he  was  led  into  the  wilderness  to  be 
tempted  of  the  Devil."  To  say  any  thing  else  or  less 
would  be,  as  we  have  partly  seen,  unphilosophical  and 
impertinent. 

Philosophy  can  afford  to  lose  from  her  ranks,  all  the 
"  brisk  talkers"  about  the  Principle  of  Moral  Evil,  as  Bun- 
yan would  have  called  the  anti-supernaturalists  ;  especially, 
as  the  best  of  them  will  not  be  lost  to  Literature.  Some 
of  them  own,  as  Poets,  the  Satan  they  deny  as  theologians  ; 
and  thus  prove  that  their  craft  cannot  dispense  with  him, 
however  their  creed  discard  him.  For,  what  if  Poetry 
deal  in  fiction  ?  She  has  never  been  able,  in  all  her  dealings 
with  it,  to  invent  a  more  plausible  or  pliable  agency,  than 
that  of  Satan,  in  order  to  explain  the  vices  or  the  violence 
of  her  daring  characters.  She  was  glad  to  speak  common- 
sense,  in  common  terms,  when  she  had  to  disown  the  Byron- 
School.  She  could  not  have  pilloried  it  or  its  founder, 
before  the  Church  or  the  world,  had  she  not  uttered  those 
words  of  truth  and  soberness,  *'  The  Satanic  School." 
The  hearts  of  all  wise  and  good  men  responded  at  once, 
to  this  descriptive  epithet.  It  will  be  everlasting,  just 
oecause  it  is  "  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but 
the  truth." 


112  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

It  will  readily  occur  to,  or  be  allowed  by,  every  thinking 
man,  that  if  there  be  a  Devil,  John  Bunyan  was  just  the 
person  he  was  likely  to  "  sift  as  wheat."  It  was  worth  his 
while  to  keep  him  out  of  the  Church  of  Christ,  if  he  could. 
It  required  no  great  sagacity  to  foresee,  that  such  a  man 
would  be  "a  host  in  himself,"  whatever  side  he  might 
espouse  in  the  contest  between  Truth  and  Error.  Bunyan 
could  be  nothing  by  halves.  Besides,  whatever  he  was  or 
wished  to  be,  he  could  not  conceal  it.  Out  it  came, — by 
day  or  by  night!  He  both  thought  and  dreamt  aloud. 
He  talked  to  himself  whenever  he  was  alone,  and  had 
dreamt  of  Satan  and  his  angels  from  his  youth  up.  Satan 
had  thus  no  great  difficulty  to  find  out  either  the  talents  or 
the  taste  of  Bunyan.  He  had  not  to  *'  consider  "  him,  half 
so  long  as  he  studied  Job,  before  hitting  upon  the  likeliest 
method  of  betraying  him.  He  saw  his  weak  side  at  a 
glance,  and  poured  *'  fiery  darts"  into  it  without  delay. 

Thus  it  is  not  necessary  to  ascribe  to  Satan  any 
improbable  degree  of  intuition  or  influence,  in  order  to 
account  for  his  attempts  upon  Bunyan.  A  duller  eye  than 
the  devil's  might  have  foreseen,  that  the  genius  of  John 
Bunyan,  if  once  under  the  power  of  Divine  Truth,  would 
do  more  for  that  Truth,  than  even  the  Harp  of  John 
Milton.  Accordingly,  Satan  was  more  afraid  of  the 
Tinker  than  of  the  poet.  He  let  Milton  alone  ;  but  came 
in  like  a  flood  upon  Bunyan  ;  well  knowing  that  a  real 
Allegorist  was  more  dangerous  to  the  kingdom  of  dark- 
ness, than  even  the  Prince  of  epic  poetry ;  and  that  the 
Apollyon  of  the  Pilgrim,  would  awe  more  than  the 
Lucifer  of  the  Paradise  Lost.  I  do  not  mean,  of  course, 
that  Satan  anticipated  either  picture  of  himself;  but  that 
he  could  easily  guess  how  the  two  Artists  would  paint  him, 
and  thus  calculate  their  comparative  influence  upon  his 
own  power  in  the  world. 

It  may  be  unusual  to  speak  in  this  straight-forward  way 
about  Satan :  but  thus  he  should  be  spoken  of,  if  we  would 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  113 

think  of  him,  or  resist  him,  as  the  Scriptures  teach.  There 
is  neither  extravagance  nor  levity  in  their  descriptions  of 
the  Tempter.  I  have  studied  and  written  the  Life  of 
Bunyan,  chiefly  in  order  to  prove  this.  And  if  I  allow 
myself  to  be  somewhat  playful  occasionally,  it  is  only 
because  mere  theology  on  this  subject  would  not  gain  a 
hearing  with  many  at  present. 

Bunyan  himself  had  no  doubts  about  the  reality  of 
Satanic  agency,  in  his  own  case.  How  could  he,  after 
suffering  even  what  we  have  already  seen  ?  And  that 
is  nothing  compared  with  what  we  have  now  to  con- 
template. I  have  shown,  that  I  am  not  inclined  to 
ascribe  to  Satan  too  many  of  Bunyan's  distractions.  I 
have  been,  perhaps,  over-cautious  hitherto :  but  now  I 
must  speak  out^  if  I  speak  agreeably  to  the  Oracles  of 
God. 

Bunyan's  comfort  from  the  words,  "  My  Love,"  did  not 
last  long.  He  did  not  calculate  upon  this.  It  was  so 
strong  when  it  "  kindled  in  his  spirit,"  that  he  exclaimed, 
"  Surely  I  will  not  forget  this — forty  years  hence."  It 
went  away,  however,  "  within  less  than  forty  days."  This 
can  hardly  be  wondered  at.  It  gave  place,  however,  to  a 
storm,  utterly  unaccountable,  apart  from  Satan.  "  In  about 
the  space  of  a  month,"  he  says,  "  a  very  great  storm  came 
down  upon  me,  which  handled  me  twenty  times  worse  than 
all  I  had  met  with  before.  It  came  stealing  upon  me,  now 
by  one  piece,  and  then  by  another.  First,  all  my  comfort 
was  taken  from  me.  Then,  darkness  seized  upon  me. 
After  which,  \\\\o\q  floods  of  blasphemous  thoughts  against 
God,  Christ,  and  the  Scriptures,  were  poured  in  upon  my 
spirit,  to  my  great  confusion  and  astonishment."  Thus  he 
was  taken  by  surprise  :  and  Bunyan  is  too  honest,  to  be 
suspected  of  tampering  with  sin  or  speculation,  when  he 
does  not  say  so.  Indeed,  he  had  been  more  than  usually 
prudent,  for  him,  in  reasoning  about  the  comfort,  when 
it    came,  and  whilst    it   lasted.      When,  lo,    a    storm    of 


114  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

blasphemous  thoughts  burst  upon  him,  stirring  up  questions, 
he  says,  '*  against  the  very  being  of  a  God,  and  of  his  only 
beloved  Son,  and  whether  there  were  in  truth  a  God  or 
Christ,  and  whether  the  Holy  Scriptures  were  not  rather  a 
cunning  story,  than  the  pure  Word  of  God."  This  was  not 
all,  nor  the  worst.  Happily,  we  do  not  know  the  worst. 
He  wisely  concealed  that,  when  he  wrote  his  Life.  "  I 
may  not,  and  dare  not,"  he  says,  "  utter,  by  neither  word 
nor  pen,  (even)  at  this  time,  other  suggestions." 

Altogether,  "  they  did,"  he  adds,  "  make  such  a  seizure 
upon  my  spirit,  and  did  so  overweigh  my  heart,  both  with 
their  numbers,  continuance,  2Ci\^  fiery  force,  that  I  felt  as  if 
there  were  nothing  else  but  these  within  me  from  morning 
to  night,  and  as  though  there  could  be  room,  for  nothing 
else.  I  also  concluded,  that  God  had  given  me  up  to 
them,  to  be  carried  away  with  them  as  by  a  mighty  whirl- 
wind." 

When  Bunyan  himself  tried  to  account  for  the  permission 
of  this  whirlwind  of  temptation,  he  ascribed  it  to  his  neglect 
of  "  a  sound  sent  from  Heaven,  as  an  alarm  to  awaken  him 
to  provide  for  a  coming  storm."  The  sound  was,  "  Simon, 
Simon,  behold  Satan  hath  desired  to  have  you."  These 
words  had  probably  been  addressed  to  him  originally  by 
Gilford,  or  some  pious  friend,  who  foresaw  that  his  sudden 
comfort  was  not  likely  to  last  either  forty  years  or  forty 
days,  upon  such  a  foundation  as  the  isolated  words,  "  My 
Love."  This  conjecture  is  not  improbable  :  for  the  man 
who  wanted  to  tell  the  crows  his  joy,  was  sure  to  tell  his 
friends  of  it ;  and  they  were  equally  sure  to  say,  "  Sim^n, 
Simon,"  when    they  heard    Bunyan  calculating  that   his 

heart  could 

"  Never  lose 
The  relish,  all  his  days." 

But,  like  Peter,  he  was  self-confident,  and  thus  forgot  who 
warned  him.  The  warning  itself,  however,  recurred  to 
him  when  his  joy  began  to  abate.     At  first,  it  *'  sounded 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  115 

loud  within  him  "  only.  In  a  little,  it  began  to  sound  loud 
around  him.  "  Once  above  all  the  rest,"  he  says,  "  I 
turned  my  head  over  my  shoulder  ;  thinking-  verily  that 
some  man  behind  me,  half  a  mile^  had  called  after  me. 
And  although  that  (Simon)  was  not  my  name,  yet  it  made 
me  suddenly  look  behind  me,  believing  that  he  who  called 
so  loud  meant  me."  This  made  him  *'  muse  and  wonder, 
what  should  be  the  reason  of  this  Scripture,  that  at  this 
rate,  so  often  and  so  loud,  should  still  be  sounding  and 
rattling  in  his  ears."  Indeed,  he  never  forgot  its  loud 
voice,  nor  doubted  its  heavenly  origin.  He  said  soon  after, 
"  I  did  both  see  and  feel  that  it  was  sent  from  Heaven  to 
awaken  me."  Subsequently  he  said,  "  It  came,  as  I  have 
thought  since,  to  have  stirred  me  up  to  prayer  and  watch- 
fulness. It  came  to  acquaint  me,  that  a  cloud  and  a  storm 
were  coming  down  upon  me :  but  I  understood  it  not." 
To  his  dying  day  he  said,  "  Methinks  I  hear  still,  with 
what  a  loud  voice  these  words,  Simon,  Simon,  sounded  in 
mine  ears."  Thus  Dr.  Southey  was  fully  warranted  to  say 
of  these  sounds,  "  Real  they  were  to  him  in  the  impression 
which  they  made,  and  in  their  lasting  effect;  and  even 
afterwards  when  his  soul  was  at  peace,  he  believed  them, 
in  cool  and  sober  reflection,  to  have  been  more  than 
natural." 

Was  Bunyan  right  in  this  ?  I  am  inclined  to  take  the 
very  same  view  of  it,  as  of  the  Vision  at  the  play-ground. 
Recollected  truth  was  the  basis  of  both  ;  a  vivid  imagina- 
tion gave  sensible  forms  to  both ;  but  the  timely  suggestion 
of  the  truth  itself  belongs  to  the  agency  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
as  a  Remembrancer.  In  both  cases,  it  was  neither  unworthy 
of,  nor  unlike  that  Guide,  to  bring  before  the  mind  of  a 
man  who  had  so  much  of  Peter's  imprudence,  the  warning 
addressed  to  Peter  by  Christ.  With  the  sounds^  whether 
low  or  loud,  as  with  the  sights,  Divine  agency  had  no 
more  to  do,  than  it  has  when  we  hear  voices  during 
sleep. 


116  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

It  is  hardly  necesssary,  however,  to  draw  upon  Dreams, 
in  order  to  account  for  Bunyan's  illusion :  for,  who  has 
not  looked  behind  suddenly,  as  if  there  had  been  some  one 
calling  us  byname?  In  times,  of  deep  abstraction  and 
reverie,  amongst  woods,  waters,  or  solitary  mountains,  both 
the  voices  and  echoes  of  Nature  seem  to 

"  Syllable  men's  names," 

and  almost  to  utter  the  thought  which  chiefly  absorbs  the 
mind.  Let  not  Bunyan  be  laughed  at  for  hearing  "  a 
voice,  which  others  could  not "  have  heard  at  his  side.  He 
had  as  much  poetry  in  his  soul,  as  the  Poet  who  claimed 
this  power  ;  and  his  *'  inward  ear  "  was  quite  as  acute,  and 
more  attentive. 

There  was  thus  much  in  both  his  temperament  and 
circumstances  at  this  time,  to  account  for  his  thoughts 
becoming  as  Dr.  Southey  well  says,  *'  vivid  as  realities, 
and  affecting  him  more  forcibly  than  impressions  from  the 
external  world :"  but  there  was  nothing  which  accounts  for 
blasphemies  he  durst  not  name,  nor  for  atheistical  reason- 
ings he  had  never  heard,  read,  or  dreamt  of  before.  He 
had,  indeed,  been  a  blasphemer,  in  the  vulgar  sense,  in 
early  life  ;  but  now,  he  says,  "  I  was  bound  in  the  wings 
of  a  Wind,  that  tvould  carry  me  away,  to  bolt  out  some 
horrible  blasphemous  thought  or  other  against  God.  I 
often  found  my  mind  suddenly  put  to  it,  to  curse  and 
swear,  or  to  speak  some  grievous  thing,  against  God,  or 
Christ  his  Son,  and  the  Scriptures."  Thus  both  railing 
and  reasoning  forced  themselves  into  his  new  blasphemies. 
He  was  only  profane  before ;  but  now  he  was  inclined  to 
be  alternately  an  Infidel  and  an  Atheist. 

All  this  would  be  somewhat  unnatural^  as  to  its  degree, 
even  in  the  case  of  a  man  who  had  been  the  companion  of 
sceptics  and  scorners,  or  a  reader  of  their  books  j  especially 
if  these  had  not  perverted  his  moral  tastes,  nor  entangled 
him  in  guilty  pursuits.     Bunyan,  however,  had  never  read 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  117 

such  books,  and  he  had  no  vicious  habits.  The  only 
dangerous  books  he  had  read,  up  to  this  time,  were 
Antinomian.  It  is,  therefore,  somewhat  difficult  to 
account  for  even  his  reasoning-s  against  the  authority  of 
the  Scriptures.  He  himself  refers  them  to  no  human 
source  ;  but  traces  them  all  directly  to  Satan.  "  The 
Tempter,"  he  says,  *'  would  much  assault  me  with  this, — 
'  How  can  you  tell  but  that  the  Turks  had  as  good 
Scriptures  to  prove  their  Mahomet  the  Saviour,  as  we 
have  to  prove  our  Jesus  ?'  And,  '  Could  I  think  that  so 
many  ten  thousands,  in  so  many  countries  and  kingdoms, 
should  be  without  the  knowledge  of  the  right  way  to 
heaven  (if  there  were  indeed  a  heaven)  ;  and  that  we  only 
who  live  in  a  corner  of  the  earth,  should  alone  be  blessed 
therewith  ?  Every  one  doth  think  his  own  Religion  rightest ; 
Jews,  McnDrs,  and  Pagans :  and,  how  if  all  our  faith,  and 
Christ,  and  Scriptures,  should  be  but  a  think-so  too  ?' 
Sometimes  I  endeavoured  to  argue  against  these  sugges- 
tions, and  to  set  some  of  the  sentences  of  blessed  Paul 
against  them  :  but,  alas,  I  quickly  felt,  when  I  thus  did, 
such  arguings  as  these  would  return  again  upon  me, — 
Though  we  made  so  great  a  matter  of  Paul  and  of  his 
words,  yet  how  could  I  tell,  but  that  in  very  deed,  he  being 
a  subtle  and  cunning  man,  might  have  given  himself  up 
to  deceive  with  strong  delusions,  and  take  pains  and  travel 
to  undo  and  destroy  his  fellows  ?" 

All  this  is  very  hollow  to  us :  but  it  must  have  been  very 
plausible  to  Bunyan,  and  might  have  puzzled  his  Bedford 
friends,  had  he  submitted  the  questions  to  them  ;  for  it  is 
not  likely  that  even  Gifford  knew  enough  of  the  Koran  or 
Mahomet,  to  unmask  their  pretensions.  Bunyan,  however, 
had  he  known  them,  would  have  seen  through  them  at  a 
glance,  even  at  this  stage  of  his  distractions  :  and  had  he 
known  that  Mahomet  died  of  the  poisoned  lamb  given  him 
by  the  Jewess  at  Kheebar,  and  that  the  promise  made  to 
the  Apostles  of  Christ  (that  none  of  them  should  die  by 


118  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

poisoii)  was  literally  fulfilled,  it  is  easy  to  conceive,  from 
Bunyan's  temperament,  what  an  effect  this  circumstantial 
evidence  would  have  had  upon  his  wonder-loving  mind. 
The  Viper  at  Malta  would  have  reinstated  Paul's  authority 
at  once,  with  him,  as  well  as  reminded  him  of  his  own 
escape  from  the  fangs  of  an  adder.  It  was,  however,  well 
for  him,  that  his  faith  found  its  anchorage  again  where 
it  began,  in  the  deep  and  sound  moorings  of  Internal 
Evidence. 

Bunyan  did  not  find  this  soon  nor  easily :  for  his  faith 
had  no  helper  on  the  stormy  sea,  where  it  was  now  driven 
of  the  wind  and  tossed.  Indeed,  he  seems  to  have  been 
afraid  or  ashamed  to  submit  his  sceptical  doubts  to  any 
one  ;  lest  in  uttering  them,  the  horrid  blasphemies  which 
mingled  with  them,  should  holt  out  at  the  same  time,  in 
spite  of  him. 

It  is  painful  to  dwell  upon  this  scene !  I,  indeed,  would 
not  do  so,  did  not  others  as  well  as  myself  need  to  be  stirred 
up  to  pray  with  the  understanding  and  the  heart,  "  Lead  us 
not  into  Temptation,  but  deliver  us  from  the  Evil  One  ;'* 
o  TTovTjpos.  This  Petition  ought  to  be  as  fervent  as  it  is 
frequent.  Christ  prayed  thus  for  Peter,  as  well  as  taught 
us  to  pray  so  :  a  plain  proof,  that  the  danger  is  neither 
imaginary  nor  slight.  It  is,  therefore,  desirable  to  hold  up 
the  case  of  Bunyan,  as  a  warning  specimen  of  the  "  great 
wrath/'  with  which  Satan  can  come  down  *'  for  a  season," 
when  he  knows  his  time  to  be  but  short.  Why  he  is  per- 
mitted to  do  so,  need  be  no  great  mystery  in  a  world  where 
so  many  other  trials  are  allowed  to  fall  upon  both  mind  and 
body.  The  agency  is  different  in  delirium  and  insanity ; 
but  the  effects  are  much  the  same,  in  one  sense.  What 
Bunyan  was  tempted  to  do,  many  have  done  at  the  height 
of  a  fever.  Malignant  miasm  has  thus  mystery  about  it, 
as  well  as  the  malignant  spirit. 

It  is  impossible  here,  however,  not  to  ask  the  question, 
was  Bunyan  really  insane  at  all,  at  this  time  ?     Now  he 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  119 

himself  says,  "  At  times  I  tlioiig-ht  I  should  be  bereft  of  my 
ivitsP  But  this  was  his  fear,  only  when  "  instead  of  lauding- 
and  magnifying-  God  and  the  Lamb,  with  others,"  he  felt 
ready  to  curse  them.  This  might  well  alarm  any  man  for 
his  wits,  whilst  it  lasted,  even  if  he  had  not  like  Bunyan  a 
horror  at  blasphemy.  Besides,  he  was  perfectly  conscious, 
that  his  spirit  retained  its  "  distaste  for  "  these  things  ;  and 
that  "  there  was  something  within  him  which  refused  to 
embrace  them."  Even  when  the  temptation  was  upon  him 
"  with  force,"  he  "  often "  compared  himself  to  a  child, 
*'  whom  some  Gypsy  hath  by  force  taken  up  in  her  arms, 
and  is  carrying  from  friend  and  country."  He  also  made 
great  efforts  to  get  out  of  the  wings  of  the  wind,  which 
was  carrying  him  away.  Hence  he  says  in  his  own  style, 
"  Kick  sometimes,  I  did  ;  and  also  shriek  and  cry." 
"  These  things  did  not  make  me  slack  my  crying."  Thus 
he  was  what  Dr.  Southey  truly  says,  "  collected  enough, 
even  in  the  paroxysms  of  the  disease  to  observe  its 
symptoms.  He  noted  faithfully  all  that  occurred  in  his 
reveries,  and  faithfully  reported  it."  Conder  also  has  well 
said,  in  reference  to  this  point,  "  There  are  diseased  con- 
ditions of  the  frame,  not  amounting  to  insanity,  in  which 
the  imagination  is  distempered,  but  there  is  no  delirium  : 
in  which  unreasonable  ideas  have  hold  of  the  mind,  but 
there  is  no  eclipse  of  the  controlling  judgment ;  there  are 
involuntary  impressions,  but  no  involuntary  decisions. 
Such  conditions,  how  nearly  soever  they  approximate  to 
insanity,  are  clearly  distinct  from  it." — Memoir. 

I  gladly  avail  myself  of  these  opinions  of  acute  men ; 
but  I  much  prefer  the  fact,  that  Bunyan  himself  reviewed 
his  paroxysms,  without  detecting  or  suspecting  mental 
aberration  in  them.  He  continued  to  the  end  of  life  to 
refer  them  to  Satan  ;  but  he  never  concluded  that  he  had 
beefi  "  bereft  of  his  wits,"  although  he  feared  the  loss  of 
them  at  this  time.  No  wonder  he  was  afraid !  This 
temptation  lasted  nearly  "  a  year."     "  In  these  days,"  he 


120  .    LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

says,  "  when  I  heard  others  talk  of  what  was  the  Sin 
against  the  Holy  Ghost, — then  would  the  Tempter  so 
provoke  me  to  desire  to  sin  that  sin,  that  I  was  as  if  I 
could  not — must  not — neither  should  be  quiet,  until  I  had 
committed  it.  Now  no  sin  would  serve — but  that !  If  it 
were  to  be  committed  by  speaking-  of  such  a  word  (a 
certain  word),  then  I  have  been  as  if  my  vaovAhwould  have 
spoken  that  word,  whether  I  would  or  no.  In  so  strange 
a  measure  was  this  temptation  upon  me,  that  often  I  have 
been  ready  to  clap  my  hands  imder  my  chin^  to  hold  my 
mouth  from  opening.  To  that  end  also,  I  have  had 
thoughts  at  other  times,  to  leap  with  my  head  down- 
ward, into  some  muck-hole^  to  keep  my  mouth  from 
speaking." 

This,  far  exceeds  any  thing  of  the  kind  we  know  of. 
The  wonder  is,  however,  that  it  went  no  further,  and  took 
no  darker  form.  Had  it  been  insanity,  it  would  have  done 
so.  We  have  thus  a  remarkable  proof  of  the  truth  of  that 
promise,  that  God  will  not  suffer  them  who  fear  him,  "  to 
be  tempted  ohove  what  they  are  able  to  bear."  Bunyan 
bore  far  more  than  we  could  have  expected ;  judging  from 
what  we  have  hitherto  known  of  him.  We  have  not  seen, 
however,  the  heavy  end  of  his  iron  yoke  yet.  "  Again," 
he  says,  "  I  beheld  the  condition  of  the  dog  and  toad,  and 
counted  the  state  of  every  thing  God  had  made,  far  better 
than  this  dreadful  state  of  mine.  Yea,  gladly  would  I  have 
been  in  the  condition  of  a  dog  or  a  horse ;  for  I  knew  they 
had  no  soul  to  perish  under  the  everlasting  weight  of  hell 
or  sin,  as  mine  was  like  to  do.  Nay,  and  though  I  saw 
this — felt  this — and  was  broken  to  pieces  with  it,  yet  that 
which  added  to  my  sorrow  was,  that  I  could  not  find  that 
with  all  my  soul  I  did  desire  deliverance  from  it.  That 
Scripture  also  did  tear  and  rend  my  soul,  in  the  midst  of 
my  distractions,  '  The  wicked  are  like  the  troubled  sea, 
whose  waters  cast  forth  mire  and  dirt.  There  is  no  peace 
to  the  wicked,  saith  my  God.' 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  121 

"  And  now  my  heart  was,  at  times,  exceeding  hard.  If  I 
would  have  given  a  thousand  pounds  for  a  tear^  I  could  not 
shed  one.  No,  nor  sometimes  scarce  desire  to  shed  one. 
I  was  much  dejected,  to  think  that  this  should  be  my  lot. 
I  saw  some  could  mourn  and  lament  their  sin ;  and  others 
again,  could  rejoice  and  bless  God  for  Christ ;  and  others 
I  again,  could  quietly  talk  of,  and  with  gladness  remember, 
I  the  Word  of  God  ; — while  I  only  was  in  the  tempest  !  This 
much  sunk  me.  I  thought  my  condition  was  alone.  I 
would,  therefore,  much  bewail  my  hard  hap  :  but  get  out 
of,  or  rid  of,  these  things,  I  could  not." 

As  might  be  expected,  these  things  hindered  him  much 
in  prayer.  Indeed,  the  wonder  is,  that  he  could  pray  at 
all,  amidst  such  distractions.  And  there  were  moments, 
"  when  the  noise,  strength,  and  force  of  these  temptations, 
would  drown,  and  overflow,  and  bury  all  thoughts  and 
remembrance  of  such  a  thing."  This  made  him  think, 
"  Surely  now,  I  am  possessed  of  the  devil.  I  thought  also 
of  Saul,  and  of  the  Evil  Spirit  that  did  possess  him,  and  did 
greatly  fear  that  my  condition  was  the  same  with  that  of 
his."  He  did,  however,  pray  even  then,  at  times.  Without 
intending  it,  he  imitated  the  Saviour  now  and  then,  by 
praying  "  more  earnestly,"  as  his  agony  increased.  We 
shall  see  this  by  and  by.  In  the  mean  time,  the  general 
state  of  his  mind,  when  he  was  upon  his  knees,  requires 
notice.  He  felt  sure  that  "  Satan  stood  at  his  right  hand 
to  resist  him."  And  certainly,  Satan  could  hardly  have 
resisted  him  more,  had  he  been  at  his  side.  "  I  have 
thought,"  he  says,  "  that  I  felt  the  devil  behind  me,  pulling 
my  clothes.  He  would  also  be  continually  at  me  in  time 
of  prayer — to  '  have  done — make  haste — break  off ;  you 
have  prayed  enough  : — stay  no  longer  !'  Sometimes  also 
he  would  cast  in  such  wicked  thoughts  as — that  I  must 
pray  to  him,  or  for  him.  I  thought  sometimes  of  that, — 
*  fall  down ;  or,  if  thou  wilt  fall  down  and  worship  me.' 
Matt,  iv.  9. 


122  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

"  Also  when  (because  I  have  had  wandering  thoughts  in 
the  time  of  this  duty)  I  have  laboured  to  compose  my  mind, 
and  fix  it  upon  God,  then  with  great  force  hath  the  Tempter 
laboured  to  distract  me,  and  confound  me,  and  to  turn 
away  my  mind,  by  presenting  to  my  heart  and  fancy — the 
for7n  of  a  bush,  a  bull,  a  besom,  or  the  like,  as  if  I  should 
pray  to  these.      To   these,   especially   at  some   times,  he 
would  so  hold  my  mind,  that  I  was  as  if  I  could  think  of 
nothing  else,  or  pray  to  nothing  but  these,  or  such  as  they." 
There  is  nothing  in  all  "  the  shapings  "  of  his  imagination, 
so  like  delirium  as  this.     It  was  not,  however,  delirium  : 
for  it  was  preceded  by  deliberate  efforts  to  be  composed, 
and  accompanied  with  grief  and   shame,  and  often  inter- 
rupted with  strong  cryings  and  tears  to  God  for  deliverance. 
Accordingly  he  says,  *'  Yet  at  times,  I  should  have  some 
strong  and  heart-affecting  apprehensions  of  God,  and  the 
reality  of  the   truth  of  his  Gospel.     And,  oh,  how  would 
my  heart,  at  such  times,  put  forth  itself  with  inexpressible 
groanings.     My  whole  soul  was  then  in   every  word.     I 
would  cry  with  pangs  after  God,  that  he  would  be  merciful 
unto  me."     Thus,  as  Conder  well  says,    "there  was   no 
eclipse  of  the  controlling  judgment."     There  were,  how- 
ever, what  Bunyan  himself  calls,  "  conceits^''  followed  this. 
Hence   he  adds,  "  But  then   I   should  be  daunted   again 
with  such  conceits  as  these ; — that  God  did  mock  at  my 
prayers ;  saying,  in   the  audience   of  Holy  Angels,  '  this 
poor    simple  wretch    doth  hanker  after  me,  as  if   I  had 
nothing  to  do  with  my  mercy  but  to  bestow  it  upon  him. 
Alas,  poor  soul,  how  art  thou  deceived  !     It  is  not  for  thee, 
to  have  favour  with  the  Highest !' " 

David  and  Asaph,  Job  and  Jeremiah,  as  well  as  John 
Bunyan,  thought  thus  at  times.  It  was,  however,  only  a 
passing  thought.  It  not  only  did  not  stop  his  praying,  but 
made  him  pray  so  fervently,  that  Satan,  he  says,  told  '*  me, 
you  are  very  hot  for  mercy,  but  I  will  cool  you.  This 
frame  shall  not  last  alwavs.     Many  have  been  as  hot  as 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  123 

you  for  a  spirt ;  but  I  have  quenched  their  zeal.'  And 
with  this,  such  and  such  (persons)  who  were  fallen  off, 
would  be  set  before  my  eyes.  (The  devillish  Ranter,  of 
course,  was  one  of  them.)  But,  thought  I,  '  I  am  glad 
this  comes  into  my  mind.  Well,  I  will  watch,  and  take 
what  care  1  can.' — 'I  shall  be  too  hard  for  you,' said 
Satan,  *  I  will  cool  you  insensibly  by  degrees ;  by  little  and 
little.  What  care  I  (saith  he)  though  I  be  seven  years  in 
chilling  your  heart,  if  I  can  do  it  at  last?  Continual 
rocking  will  lull  a  crying  child  asleep.  I  will  ply  close, 
but  I  will  have  my  end  accomplished.  Though  you  be 
burning  hot  at  present,  I  can  pull  you  from  this  fire.  I 
shall  have  you  cold  before  it  be  long.'  "  Satan's  speeches 
in  Milton's  Paradise  Lost,  are  not  more  in  keeping  with 
his  revealed  character,  than  this  speech.  It  indicates  as 
much  sound  judgment  of  the  Tempter,  as  any  Soliloquy  or 
address  Milton  has  put  into  his  lips.  It  is  just  what  Satan 
would  have  said,  had  he  spoken  to  Bunyan.  However 
much,  therefore,  Bunyan  mistook  him,  when  he  suspected 
him  of  '■'^pulling  at  his  clothes^''*  he  neither  exaggerated  nor 
imder-rated  him,  when  he  ascribed  those  "  cruel  mockings  " 
to  him.  It  is  delightful  to  trace  the  pure  and  strong  sense 
which  marks  this  vivid  sketch  of  the  depths,  wiles,  and 
malignity  of  Satan ! 

One  of  the  effects  of  this  temptation  was,  that,  while 
it  lasted,  he  could  attend  "  upon  none  of  the  Ordinances 
of  God,  but  with  sore  and  great  affliction."  His  account 
of  this  is  very  touching.  "  Yea,  then,  I  was  most  dis- 
tressed with  blasphemies.  If  hearing  the  Word,  vileness, 
blasphemy,  and  despair  would  hold  me  a  captive  there.  It 
reading,  then  I  had  sudden  thoughts  to  question  all  I  read. 
Sometimes  again,  my  mind  would  be  so  strangely  snatched 
away,  and  possessed  with  other  things, — that  I  have  neither 
known,  nor  regarded,  nor  remembered,  so  much  as  the 
sentence  I  had  but  just  read."  Thus,  "  Satan  stood  at  his 
right  hand  to  resist  him." 


124  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Bunyan  was  not,  however,  without  some  alleviations 
during  this  sad  year.  '*  I  had,"  he  says,  "  some  supports 
in  this  Temptation,  though  they  were  all  questioned  by  me 
then.  That,  in  Jeremiah,  was  something  to  me, — that 
though  we  had  spoken  and  done  evil  things  as  we  could, 
yet  we  should  cry  unto  God,  '  My  Father,  thou  art  the 
guide  of  my  youth,'  and  return  unto  him."  Thus  although 
God  suffered  him  to  be  tempted.  He  did  not  suffer  him  to 
be  tempted  above  what  he  was  able  to  bear.  We  shall  find 
this  promise  verified,  even  when  Temptation  went  far 
beyond  all  we  have  yet  reviewed. 

I  have  often  thought,  whilst  analyzing  and  recording 
these  strange  and  startling  Temptations,  that  I  durst  not 
have  published  them,  had  I  alone  been  possessed  of 
Bunyan's  autobiography.  It  is,  however,  in  the  hands  of 
thousands,  and  will  never  pass  out  of  print ;  and,  there- 
fore, I  pass  by  nothing  it  contains.  Besides,  his  high  and 
holy  character  is  sufficiently  known  to  all  readers,  by  his 
Pilgrim  :  so  that  there  is  no  danger  of  sinking  him,  or  of 
injuring  Religion,  by  any  disclosure  of  his  woes  and  weak- 
ness, however  full,  minute,  or  familiar  it  may  be.  The 
recollection,  that  he  wrote  the  Pilgrim's  Progress, 
corrects  or  counterbalances  all  unfavourable  impressions. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  125 


CHAPTER  XI. 


BUNYAN  S    REVIVALS. 


After  remaining  a  whole  year  in  such  a  Wilderness  of 
temptation,  Bunyan  may  well  be  expected  and  allowed  to 
give  strong  names  to  both  the  Grace  and  Providence, 
which  kept  him  from  sinking  under  his  heavy  burden,  and 
which  now  began  to  lighten  and  unloose  it.  His  first  relief 
was  very  timely.  He  had  begun  to  be  afraid  of  long  life, 
lest  it  should  wear  out  all  his  "  remembrance  of  the  evil  of 
sin,  the  worth  of  heaven,  and  his  need  of  the  blood  of 
Christ."  Time  seemed  to  him,  set  upon  spunging  all  this 
"  out  of  both  mind  and  thought."  But  he  could  not  bear 
the  idea  of  outliving  his  recollections,  or  his  estimates,  of 
the  things  which  belonged  to  his  eternal  peace.  The  fear 
of  this  put  him  upon  crying,  louder  than  ever,  for  help  from 
God.  And,  as  might  be  expected,  he  found  "  help  in  time 
of  need." 

He  was  more  wise  than  usual,  in  selecting  an  inscription 
for  his  first  Ebenezer,  when  he  came  up  from  the  wilderness. 
It  was  this,  "  I  am  persuaded  that  neither  death  nor  life, 
nor  angels,  nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things 
present,  nor  things  to  come,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor 
any  other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the 
love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord."  Rom. 
viii.  39.  "  This  was  a  good  word  to  me,"  he  says,  "  after 
I  had  suffered  (from)  these  things." 

If  I  understand  his  meaning  aright  here,  it  explains  the 
unquestioning  ease  and  readiness  with  which  he   applied 


126  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

this  "  strong  consolation  "  to  himself.  Had  he  not  suffered 
much,  his  first  work  with  this  Text  would  have  been  to 
make  a  rack  of  it,  upon  which  he  would  have  tortured 
himself  with  the  questions, — does  God  love  me  ;  how  can 
that  be  ?  He  had,  however,  just  been  assailed,  as  he 
thought  and  felt,  by  all  the  things  which  threaten  to 
"  separate  from  the  love  of  God :"  and  thus  he  ventured 
to  conclude,  that  such  an  onset  would  not  have  been  made 
upon  him,  had  he  been  hated  or  given  up  of  God. 
Besides,  after  long  and  deep  suffering,  the  mind  is  glad  to 
take  up  with  a  suitable  promise,  without  nicely  criticizing 
its  own  warrant  to  appropriate  the  comfort.  The  comfort 
is  wanted  in  such  cases ;  and  therefore  it  is  wisdom  to  take 
it,  "  nothing  doubting."  Had  Bunyan  done  so  from  the 
first,  he  might  have  escaped  many  of  his  pangs.  It  must 
not  be  supposed,  however,  that  he  made  the  most  of  this 
promise  now,  much  as  he  needed  it.  He  inscribed  it  at 
full  length  upon  his  Ebenezer  of  gratitude  :  but  all  the 
comfort  he  ventured  to  take  from  it  was, — "  Now  I 
hoped  long  life  would  not  destroy  me,  nor  make  me  miss 
heaven."  Any  other  comfort  he  had  at  this  time,  was 
drawn  from  other  sources,  and  but  very  evanescent.  He 
raised,  indeed,  many  Ebenezers,  only  to  throw  them  down 
again. 

But  although  still  somewhat  capricious,  Bunyan  was  now 
a  wiser  man  than  we  have  hitherto  found  him.  We  shall 
now  find  him  oftenest,  not  in  the  dark  ravines  of  "  secret 
things,"  nor  upon  the  giddy  heights  of  Typical  conjecture, 
but  upon  the  broad  and  level  table-land  of  the  Gospel.  The 
fact  is,  his  fears  of  blasphemy  and  reprobation  had  taken 
such  awful  forms,  that  not  all  his  power  of  allegorizing,  or 
of  spiritualizing  typical  and  historical  truth,  could  extract 
one  hope  or  comfort  from  it.  Perhaps  too,  his  power 
itself  was  paralyzed  for  the  time,  by  his  terrors.  But, 
be  this  as  it  may,  he  now  became  a  student  of  the  New 
Testament  j — in    the    sense    of  looking  there    chiefiy   for 


LTFE    OF    BUNYAN.  127 

promises  suited  to  his  case.  As  usual,  however,  he  looked, 
at  first,  in  order  to  be  electrified  as  well  as  enlightened. 
He  had  not  patience,  to  trace  out  the  connexion  or  bear- 
ings of  the  great  and  precious  promises.  If  a  great  truth 
did  not  strike  him  powerfully  at  the  first  glance,  he  would 
not  study  it.  What  it  contained,  was  nothing  to  him, 
unless  it  flashed  out  upon  him.  Accordingly,  his  first 
comforts  were  rather  momentary  gleams  of  hope,  and 
sudden  glows  of  joy,  than  assurances  of  the  understand- 
ing. He  himself  says  of  them,  that  they  were  "  like  to 
Peter's  sheet ;  of  a  sudden  caught  up  again  to  heaven." 
Acts  X.  16. 

Some  of  these  "  sweet  hints,  touches,  and  short  visits," 
as  he  calls  them,  were,  however,  very  useful  to  him.  The 
first  was,  happily,  from  that  memorable  oracle,  '^  For  He 
hath  made  him  to  be  sin  for  us,  who  knew  no  sin  ;  that  we 
might  be  made  the  righteousness  of  God  in  him."  2  Cor. 
V.  12.  "I  had  once,"  he  says,  '*  a  sweet  glance  from  that.'' 
He  might  have  had  many,  had  he  looked  at  it  with  a  set 
gaze.  Even  the  glance,  however,  prepared  him  to  lay 
hold,  at  an  emergency,  upon  another  great  truth.  "  I 
remember,"  he  says,  "  that  one  day  as  I  was  sitting  in  a 
neighbour's  house,  and  there  very  sad  at  the  consideration 
of  my  many  blasphemies  ;  and  as  I  was  saying  in  my 
mind, — *  What  ground  have  I  to  think  that  I,  who  have 
been  so  vile  and  abominable,  should  ever  inherit  Eternal 
Life  ?' — that  word  came  suddenly  upon  me,  *  If  God  be 
for  us,  who  can  be  against  us  ?'  Horn.  viii.  39.  That  also 
was  a  help  to  me, — '  Because  I  live,  ye  shall  live  also.' 
John  xiv.  10. 

Bunyan  appears  to  have  been  much  at  liome^  during  the 
year  of  his  "  fiery  trial :"  but  when  his  hopes,  and  thus  his 
spirits,  began  to  revive,  he  took  up  his  Kit  again,  and  went 
his  usual  rounds,  as  a  Tinker.  This  was  advantageous  to 
his  health.  He  now  mused,  however,  more  than  he  talked, 
wherever  he  went.    If  not  a  sad,  he  was  now  2iYevy  solemn 


128 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


man.  The  Ranters  saw  this,  and  shrunk  from  his  searching- 
eye.  These  "  Sweet  Singers,"  as  they  called  themselves, 
who  combined  only  the  sins  of  David  with  the  Song-s  of 
David,  durst  not  vapour  in  Bunyan's  presence  as  formerly. 
The  Quakers,  however,  were  attracted  by  his 

"  Leaden  eye, 
Which  loved  the  ground," 

and  by  his  deep  solemnity.  They  sounded,  if  not  assailed 
him,  upon  their  favourite  points  :  but  he  answered  them  not 
a  word,  at  this  time.  He  listened  to  them,  however ;  and, 
at  a  future  day,  proved  to  them,  that  he  remembered  what 
they  said :  for  he  gathered  now,  that  knowledge  of  their 
Tenets,  which  led  him  to  write  his  *'  Gospel  Truths 
Opened  j"  just  as  he  picked  up  at  Naseby,  unconsciously, 
the  plan  of  his  Holy  War. 

One  of  his  travelling  days  at  this  time,  was  such  "  a  good 
day"  to  him,  that  he  never  forgot  it,  although  he  soon  lost 
the  comfort  of  it.  "  I  was  musing  in  the  country,"  he 
says,  "  on  the  wickedness  and  blasphemy  of  my  heart,  and 
considering  the  enmity  that  was  in  me  to  God,  when  that 
Scripture  came  into  my  mind, — '  He  hath  made  peace  by 
the  Blood  of  his  cross.'  Col.  i.  20.  By  this,  I  was  made 
to  see,  both  again  and  again,  that  God  and  my  soul  were 
friends,  by  His  blood.  Yea,  I  saw  that  the  Justice  of 
God,  and  my  sinful  soul,  could  embrace  and  kiss  each 
other  through  His  blood.  This  was  "  a  good  day  to  me. 
I  hope  I  shall  never  forget  it."  No  wonder,  he  returned 
home  a  happier  man  than  he  went  out !  This  one  discovery 
of  the  new  and  living  way  of  acceptance  with  God,  was 
worth  more  than  all  his  other  glimpses  of  the  Gospel  put 
together.  He  now  saw  "  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of 
Jesus,"  and  understood  how  God  could  "  be  just,  even  in 
justifying  the  ungodly." 

But  although  relieved  from  despair,  Bunyan  was  not 
free  from  anxiety.     On  his  return  home,  his  mind  dwelt 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  129 

much  upon  the  fear  of  death,  and  the  power  of  the  devil. 
One  day  he  sat  musing  upon  them  at  his  own  fire-side, 
until  he  made  himself  absolutely  wretched.  But  he  mused 
now,  with  the  New  Testament  in  his  hand : — holding  it, 
I  grant,  and  regret,  more  as  a  Talisman  than  a  lamp  ;  as 
a  charm  than  a  guide  ;  but  still,  looking  nowhere  else  for 
relief.  On  this  occasion,  his  eye  lighted  upon  the  right  spot. 
It  fell  upon  the  words,  "  Forasmuch  as  the  children  were 
partakers  of  flesh  and  blood,  He  also  himself  took  part  of  the 
same,  that  through  death.  He  might  destroy  him  that  had 
the  power  of  death  (that  is  the  devil),  and  deliver  those 
who  through  fear  of  death  were  all  their  life-time  subject 
to  bondage."  Heh.  ii.  14,  15.  These  words  were  at  once 
''precious  and  overpowering"  to  him.  "I  thought,"  he 
says,  "  that  the  glory  of  these  words  was  so  iveighty  on  me, 
that  I  was  both  once  and  twice  ready  to  swoon  as  I  sat : 
yet  not  with  grief  and  trouble ;  but  with  solid  joy  and 
peace." 

He  now  began  to  find  composure  and  profit  in  the 
House  of  God,  and  **  under  the  ministry  of  holy  Mr. 
Gifford."  "  To  his  doctrine,"  says  Dr.  Southey,  "  he 
ascribed  in  some  degree  his  convalescence."  *'  But  that 
doctrine,"  he  adds,  *'  was  of  a  most  'perilous  kind."  What 
do  you  suppose  it  was,  judging  from  this  denunciation  ? 
Why,  "  the  preacher  exhorted  his  hearers  not  to  be 
contented  with  taking  any  thing  upon  trust,  nor  to  rest 
until  they  had  received  it  with  evidence  from  heaven : — 
that  is,  till  their  belief  should  be  confirmed  by  a  particular 
revelation !  Without  this,  he  warned  them,  they  would 
find  themselves  wanting  in  strength  when  temptation 
came." — Southet/s  Bimyan^  p.  28. 

This  is  nearly,  but  not  exactly,  Bunyan's  account  of 
Gifford's  doctrine.  He  says  of  him,  "  He  would  bid  us 
take  special  heed,  that  we  took  not  up  any  truth  upon 
trust, — as  from  this,  that,  or  any  other  man ;  but  cry 
mightily  unto   God,   that    he  would    convince    us   of  the 

s 


130  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN, 

reality  thereof,  and  set  us  down  therein,  by  his  own  Spirit, 
in  the  Holy  Word :  for,  said  he,  if  you  do  otherwise,  when 
temptations  come  strongly  upon  you, — you,  not  having- 
received  the  Truths  with  evidence  from  heaven,  will  find 
you  want  that  help  and  strength  to  resist,  which  you  once 
thought  you  had." 

This  doctrine,  Bunyan  "  drank  in  "  as  rain  or  dew.  The 
fact  is,  it  held  then,  and  it  holds  now,  the  same  place  in 
the  creed  and  cravings  of  pious  minds,  that  the  awen  or 
inspiration  of  poetry  holds  in  the  estimation  of  poets. 
They  know  well,  and  few  better  than  Dr.  Southey,  the 
immense  difference  between  vague  and  vivid,  tame  and 
touching,  views  of  Man  and  Nature.  The  Laureate  has 
looked  as  often  and  intently  from  the  summit  of  Skiddaw 
or  Helvellyn,  and  from  the  terrace  of  Lattrigg  or  Lodore, 
and  from  the  bosom  of  Derwentwater  and  Rydal,  for 
original  views  and  emotions,  as  ever  the  Tinker  looked  to 
the  Bible,  the  Sanctuary^  or  the  Closet,  for  experimental 
and  impressive  views  of  Divine  truth.  Bunyan  knew  the 
difference  between  ^/^  and  unfelt  Truth,  in  religion,  just  as 
well  as  Southey  knows  it  in  poetry.  It  will,  therefore,  be 
quite  time  enough  to  blame  Gifford  and  to  pity  Bunyan, 
for  their  solicitude  about  the  witness  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to 
give  truth  ihefoixe  of  truth,  when  Poets  call  their  inspira- 
tion, "  a  most  perilous  doctrine."  Till  then,  we  may  take 
for  granted  that  there  is  no  more  danger  in  looking  for; 
experimental  seals  to  the  volume  of  Revelation,  than  in 
looking  for  new  beauties  or  glories  in  the  volume  of  Nature. 
There  would  be  but  little  poetry  in  the  world,  if  Nature 
were  contemplated  as  slightly  by  her  professed  admirers, 
Revelation  is  by  the  bulk  of  its  possessors  :  and  there  woulc 
be  no  commanding  piety  in  the  Church,  were  there  no^ 
Christians  who,  like  Bunyan,  seek  the  seals  of  the  Spirit. 

Bunyan  is  not  the  man,  however,  at  this  stage  of  hie 
character  and  history,  upon  whom  it  would  be  wise  or  saf 
to  hang  the  vindication  of  this  great  and  cardinal  trutl 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  ]3l 

Nothing  is  more  true,  than  that  the  Holy  Spirit  manifests 
the  things  of  Christ  to  devotional  minds,  with  power  and 
glory,  from  time  to  time :  but,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  not 
true  that  Bunyan  could  distinguish  well,  at  this  time, 
between  accident  and  unction,  or  natural  and  spiritual 
demonstration.  He  hit,  however,  not  very  ivide  of  the 
mark,  when  he  gave  the  following  illustrations  of  his  own 
experience,  under  the  ministry  of  Gifford.  His  doctrine, 
he  says,  "  was  as  seasonable  to  my  soul  as  the  former  and 
latter  rain  in  their  season  ;  for  I  had  found,  and  that  by 
sad  experience,  the  truth  of  these  his  words ;  (for  I  had 
felt  that  no  man  can  say,  especially  when  tempted  by  the 
devil,  that  Jesus  Christ  is  Lord,  but  by  the  Holy  Ghost.) 
Wherefore  I  found  my  soul,  through  grace,  very  apt  to 
drink  in  this  doctrine,  and  to  incline  to  pray  to  God,  that 
in  nothing  that  pertained  to  God's  glory,  and  my  own 
eternal  happiness,  he  would  suffer  me  to  be  without  the 
confirmation  thereof  from  heaven ;  for  now  I  saw  clearly, 
there  was  an  exceeding  difference  betwixt  the  notion  of 
the  flesh  and  blood,  and  the  revelation  of  God  in  heaven : 
Also  a  great  difference  betwixt  that  faith  which  is  feigned, 
and  according  to  man's  wisdom,  and  that  which  comes  by 
a  man's  being  born  thereto  of  God.  Blessed  art  thou, 
Simon  Barjona ;  for  flesh  and  blood  hath  not  revealed  it 
unto  thee,  but  my  Father  which  is  in  heaven.  Whosoever 
believeth  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ  is  born  of  God.  But, 
oh !  now,  how  was  my  soul  led  from  truth  to  truth  by 
God !  Even  from  the  birth  and  cradle  of  the  Son  of  God 
to  his  ascension,  and  second  coming  from  heaven  to  judge 
the  world. 

"  Truly,  I  then  found,  upon  this  account,  the  great  God 
was  very  good  unto  me ;  for,  to  my  remembrance,  there 
was  not  any  thing  that  I  then  cried  unto  God  to  make 
known,  and  reveal  unto  me,  but  he  was  pleased  to  do  it 
for  me  ;  I  mean,  not  one  part  of  the  gospel  of  the  Lord 
Jesus,  but  I  was  orderly  led  into  it :  methought  I  saw  with 


132  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

great  evidence,  from  the  four  Evangelists,  the  wonderful 
works  of  God,  in  giving  Jesus  Christ  to  save  us,  from  his 
conception  and  birth,  even  to  his  second  coming  to 
judgment :  Methought  I  was  as  if  I  had  seen  him  born,  as 
if  I  had  seen  him  grow  up ;  as  if  I  had  seen  him  walk 
through  this  world,  from  the  cradle  to  the  cross ;  to  which 
also,  when  he  came,  I  saw  how  gently  he  gave  himself  to 
be  hanged  and  nailed  on  it  for  my  sins  and  wicked  doing. 
Also  as  I  was  musing  on  this  his  progress,  that  dropped 
on  my  spirit,  He  was  ordained  for  the  slaughter.  T/ius, 
searching  ivhat  or  what  manner  of  time  the  Spirit  of  Christ 
did  signify. —  Who  verily  was  fore-ordained  before  the 
foundation  of  the  world. 

"  When  I  have  considered  also,  the  truth  of  his  resur- 
rection, and  have  remembered  that  word,  *  Touch  me  not^ 
Mary^  &c.,  I  have  seen  as  if  he  had  leaped  out  of  the 
grave's  mouth,  for  joy  that  he  was  risen  again,  and  had 
got  the  conquest  over  our  dreadful  foes,  saying,  /  ascend 
unto  my  Father,  and  your  Father  ;  and  to  my  God^  and 
to  your  God.  I  have  also,  in  the  spirit,  seen  him  a  man, 
on  the  right  hand  of  God  the  Father  for  me ;  and  have 
seen  the  manner  of  his  coming  from  heaven,  to  judge  the 
world  with  glory,  and  have  been  confirmed  in  these  things 
by  these  Scriptures  ;  '  And  when  he  had  spoken  these 
things,  while  they  beheld  he  was  taken  up ;  and  a  cloud 
received  him  out  of  their  sight.' — '  But  he  being  full  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  looked  up  steadfastly  into  heaven  and  saw  the 
glory  of  God,  and  Jesus  standing  on  the  right  hand  of  God, 
and  said.  Behold,  I  see  heaven  opened,  and  the  Son  of 
Man  standing  on  the  right  hand  of  God.' — *  And  he  com-  ■ 
manded  us  to  preach  unto  the  people,  and  to  testify  that  it  ^ 
is  he  which  was  ordained  of  God  to  be  the  judge  of  quick 
and  dead.' — '  But  this  man  because  he  continueth  for  ever 
hath  an  unchangeable  priesthood.' — '  Christ  was  once 
offered  to  bear  the  sins  of  many,  and  to  them  that  look  for 
him  shall  he   appear  the  second  time  without    sin  unto 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  1  33 

salvation.' — *  I  am  he  that  liveth  and  was  dead,  and  behold 
I  am  alive  for  evermore,  Amen ;  and  have  the  keys  of  hell 
i  and  of  death.' — '  For  the  Lord  himself  shall  descend  from 
heaven  with  a  shout,  with  the  voice  of  the  archang-el  and 
the  trump  of  God,  and  the  dead  in  Christ  shall  rise  first. 
Then  we  which  are  alive  and  remain  shall  be  caug-ht  up 
together  with  the  Lord,  in  the  air :  and  so  shall  we  ever  be 
with  the  Lord.  Wherefore  comfort  ye  one  another  with 
these  words.' 

"  Once  I  was  troubled  to  know  whether  the  Lord  Jesus 
was  man  as  well  as  God,  and  God  as  well  as  man  :  And 
truly ;  in  those  days  let  men  say  what  they  would,  unless 
I  had  it  with  evidence  from  heaven,  all  was  nothing  to  me ; 
I  counted  myself  not  set  down  in  any  truth  of  God.  Well, 
I  was  much  troubled  about  this  point,  and  could  not  tell 
how  to  be  resolved  ;  at  last,  that  came  into  my  mind,  *  And 
Ibeheldy  and  fo,  in  the  midst  of  the  throne,  mid  of  the  four 
beasts,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  elders  stood  a  Lamby  as  it 
had  been  slain.''  In  the  midst  of  the  throne,  thought  I, 
there  is  the  Godhead  ;  in  the  midst  of  the  elders,  there  is 
his  Manhood.  But,  oh!  methought,  how  this  did  glister! 
It  was  a  goodly  touch,  and  gave  me  sweet  satisfaction. 
That  other  scripture  also  did  help  me  much  in  this  ;  *  To 
us  a  child  is  born,  to  us  a  Son  is  given,  and  the  government 
shall  be  upon  his  shoulders :  and  his  name  shall  be  called 
Wonderful,  Counsellor,  the  Mighty  God,  the  Everlasting 
Father,  the  Prince  of  Peace.' " 

Having  given  these  illustrations  of  what  he  meant  by 
"  Evidence  from  heaven,"  and  by  "  God  revealing  the 
things  of  Christ"  to  him,  Bunyan  concludes  thus, — "It 
would  be  too  long  here  to  stay  to  tell  you  in  particular, 
how  God  did  set  me  down  (settle  me)  in  the  things  of 
Christ ;  and  how,  that  He  might  do  so,  he  did  lead  me 
into  his  words  ;  yea,  and  how  also  he  did  open  them  unto 
me,  and  make  them  shine  before  me,  and  cause  to  dwell 
with  me  — talk  with  me— comfort  me  over  and  over,  as  to 


134  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

His  own  being,  and  the  being  of  His  Son,  and  Spirit,  and 
Word,  and  Gospel,  And  this,  in  general,  was  His  course 
with  me  ;  first,  to  suffer  me  to  be  afflicted  with  temptations 
concerning  (the  truth  or  grace  of)  them,  and  then  reveal 
them  unto  me." 

The  doctrine  which  led  Bunyan  to  seek  and  find  all  this 
was,  says  Dr.  Southey,  "  of  a  most  perilous  kind."  So 
far,  however,  it  has  done  Bunyan  no  harm.  Even  his 
"  revelations,"  as  he  calls  them,  never  go  beyond  Revela- 
tion itself.  He  himself  knew  this,  and  said  so.  God,  he 
says,  "  led  him  into  His  own  Word ;  led  him  from  truth 
to  truth  ;  led  him  orderly  into  the  Gospel  of  the  Lord,  not 
into  one  part  of  it"  only.  It  is,  therefore,  self-evident, 
that  all  Bunyan  meant  by  what  Dr.  Southey  calls  *'  a 
particular  revelation"  was,  a  clear  apprehension  of  the 
grace  and  glory  of  the  Gospel  itself,  with  a  deep  feeling  of 
its  importance.  Now,  whatever  name  may  be  given  to  this 
kind  of  knowledge,  it  is  that  knowledge  of  the  Gospel 
which  a  thinking  man  would  surely  prefer,  if  he  wanted 
either  peace  or  hope  from  the  belief  of  it.  It  is  vivid, 
certainly,  but  it  is  not  visionary. 

It  may,  however,  be  safely,  and  it  ought  to  be  readily, 
granted,  that  Bunyan  is  not  a  safe  standard  to  try  experi- 
mental knowledge  by.  The  vivacity  of  his  mind  increased 
the  vividness  of  his  spiritual  discernment.  Not  one  mind 
in  a  thousand  could  have  darted,  as  his  did,  as  with  eagle- 
wings  and  eagle-eyes,  from  the  Cradle  to  the  Cross  of  the 
Saviour,  realizing  every  scene,  as  if  an  actual  witness  of  the 
sufferings  and  glory  of  Christ.  This  no  more  belongs 
to  Divine  teaching  necessarily,  than  does  the  power  of 
inventing  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  or  of  depicting  the  Holy 
War.  I  admire  Bunyan,  but  I  do  not  envy  him  at  all, 
when  he  says  of  his  realizations  of  the  Saviours  cradle, 
cross  and  grave,  "  I  was  as  if  I  had  seen  Him  born — as  if 
I  had  seen,  him  nailed  to  the  cross — as  if  I  had  seen  Him 
leap  out  of  the  grave's  mouth."     My  mind  does  not  reflect 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  135 

"  the  manifestation  of  the  Truth/'  in  this  way.  Bunyan's 
reflected  it,  as  seas  or  snow-clad  mountains  do  sun-lig-ht ; 
in  floods  and  forms  of  glory  :  mine,  only  as  a  dew-drop  or 
a  pebble.  But  still,  the  Truth  is  both  light  and  warmth  to 
me.  I  love  it  and  obey  it.  I  should,  therefore,  be  very 
unwise  and  ungrateful,  were  I  to  bring  my  own  experience 
to  the  test  of  Bunyan's  entrancing  discoveries.  That  test 
might  be  very  useful  to  Poets ;  but  it  could  only  un- 
christianize  plain  men  like  myself,  or  divert  us  from 
thought,  prayer,  and  action,  to  sentimentality  or  excite- 
ment. 

It  would  go  hard  with  the  hopes  of  many  besides  myself, 
were  the  following  record,  the  rule  in  Divine  teaching. 
"  I  had  now,"  says  Bunyan,  "  as  I  thought,  an  evidence 
from  Heaven  of  my  salvation — with  many  golden  seals 
\  thereon,  all  hanging  in  my  sight.  Now  I  would  often  long 
i  and  desire  that  the  I^ast  Day  were  come,  that  I  might  be 
for  ever  inflamed  with  the  sight,  and  joy,  and  communion 
with  Him — whose  Head  was  crowned  with  thorns ;  whose 
Face  was  spit  upon ;  whose  Body  was  broken ;  whose  Soul 
was  made  an  offering  for  my  sins !  For  whereas  before  I 
lay  continually  trembling  at  the  mouth  of  Hell, — now, 
methought,  I  was  got  so  far  therefrom,  that  I  could  scarce 
discern  it,  when  I  looked  back.  O,  thought  I,  that  I  were 
fourscore  years  old  now,  that  I  might  die  quickly,  and  my 
soul  be  gone  for  ever  !"  Bunyan  had  read,  marked,  and 
inwardly  digested  Luther  on  the  Galatians,  before  he  saw 
thus  clearly  his  way  and  welcome,  by  the  Cross,  to  the 
Crown.  The  old  Saxon's  seals  helped  him  to  read  the 
inscriptions  upon  his  own.  But  still,  this  transition  "  from 
darkness  into  marvellous  light,"  is  as  worthy  of  being 
traced  to  the  illumination  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  as  Luther's 
own  joy  and  peace  in  believing.  "  God  who  commanded  the 
light  to  shine  out  of  darkness,  did  shine  into  Bunyan's 
heart,  giving  him  the  light  by  the  knowledge  of  the  Divine 
Glory  in  the  face  of  Jesus  :"  but  it  is   equally  true,  that 


136  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

God  does  not  always  shed  such  a  flood  of  light  upon  the 
mind  at  once.  It  is  not  necessary  in  every  case.  It  could 
not  be  well  sustained,  perhaps,  in  many  cases.  Besides, 
until  Gifford  and  Luther  led  Bunyan  to  a  prayerful  and 
orderly  study  of  the  Scriptures,  he  was  a  very  ignorant 
man.  He  had  scraps  of  truth  at  his  finger  ends,  but  no 
digest  of  its  evidences  or  analogy  in  his  memory.  He  saw 
thefrm^es  of  its  glory,  but  not  the  foundations  of  its  grace. 
The  perception  of  its  connexions  and  harmony  was,  there- 
fore, to  him,  almost  what  a  prophetic  vision  would  be  to  a 
well  informed  man. 

It  should  be  for  ever  remembered  also,  where  Bunyan 
studied  Luther  and  the  Bible  at  this  time.  It  was 
alternately  in  the  barns  where  he  slept  on  straw,  and  under 
the  lonely  trees  where  he  rested  himself.  He  "  watched 
for  the  morning,"  upon  a  bed  which  had  no  attractions, 
when  he  awoke  from  his  first  sleep.  Even  the  Sluggard 
would  hardly  have  turned  himself  to  slumber  again  amongst 
the  sacking  and  litter  of  a  Tinker's  couch.  For  although 
Bunyan  was  now  an  honest  man,  and  known  as  such  in 
his  rounds,  the  barn  was  his  only  dormitory,  and  the  corn- 
cloth  his  only  counterpane,  and  his  own  wallet  stuffed  with 
his  clothes,  or  a  corn-sheaf,  his  only  pillow.  He  rarely 
knew  the  luxury  of  a  blanket,  or  even  of  a  chaff  bolster. 
It  was  from  such  couches  he  arose  with  the  sun,  to  search 
the  Scriptures,  and  to  ponder  Luther's  paradoxes,  whilst  all 
nature  was  cool,  and  calm,  and  bright,  around  him.  In 
like  manner,  when  he  rested  during  the  heat  of  the  day 
under  the  trees  or  the  hedges,  all  his  cares  at  this  time 
only  sent  him  to  his  Bible,  whilst  all  his  tastes  enjoyed  the 
scenery  and  the  solitude. 

Much  of  the  vividness  of  his  conceptions  arose  from  these 
circumstances.  And  then,  he  had  just  suffered  so  much  at 
home,  whilst  brooding  in  silence  over  dark  and  daring 
thoughts,  that  both  Nature  and  Revelation  were  almost 
new  to  him,  when  he  resumed  his  communion  with  them 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  137 

in  his  old  rounds.  Thus,  there  is  no  occasion  to  stumble 
or  stare  at  what  Bunyan  calls,  his  revelations.  They  were 
nothing-  but  new  discoveries  of  old  truth,  and  "  the  savour 
of  the  knowledge  of  Christ.'*  Unction  and  evidence  met 
together  upon  his  spirit ; — and  even  the  French  expect 
unction  to  accompany  belief. 

It  is  only  what  we  expect,  when  mathematical  Philoso- 
phers, now  that  few  of  them  are  Newtons,  sneer  and  snarl 
at  the  awen  of  moral  truth  :  but  it  is  mortifying-  and 
unbearable,  when  Poets,  (whose 

"  Fine  eye,  in  frenzy  rolling," 

searches  for  the  sublime  and  beautiful  as  for  "  hid  treasure  " 
in  Nature)  tell  us  g-ravely,  that  it  is  "  perilous  "  to  expect 
any  thing-  from  Revelation,  brighter  or  better  than  the 
vague  and  vapid  conceptions  of  eternal  thing's,  which  occur 
to  those  who  seldom  think,  and  never  pray.  Christians 
should  not,  however,  avenge  this  outrag-e  on  truth  and 
decency,  by  sneering  at  poetry.  Still,  Poets  must  not 
provoke  us,  nor  try  our  patience  too  far.  For  if  we  make 
reprisals i — Alas,  for  them ! 


138  LIFE    OF    HUNYAN. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


BUNYAN    AND    LUTHER. 


The  influence  of  Luther  on  Bunyan  has  never  been  fully 
pointed  out  :  indeed,  hardly  stated  fairly.  Even  Dr. 
Southey,  who  estimated  it  well,  mistakes  its  commence- 
ment. It  was  not  as  he  says,  when  Bunyan  saw  the 
evidence  of  his  Salvation  from  Heaven,  "  with  golden  seals 
appendant,"  nor  when  he  had  "  the  gate  of  Heaven  in 
full  view,"  and  was  longing  to  "  enjoy  the  beatific  vision," 
that  Luther's  Commentary  on  the  Galatians  "  fell  into 
his  hands."  That  book  led  to  this  state  of  mind,  instead  of 
coming  in  to  confirm  it.  Hence  Bunyan  says,  "  But  before 
I  had  got  thus  far  out  of  my  Temptations,  I  did  greatly 
long  to  see  some  antient  godly  man's  experience,  who  had 
writ  some  hundred  years  before  I  was  born.  Well,  after 
many  such  longings  in  my  mind,  the  God  in  whose  hands 
are  all  our  days  and  ways  did  cast  into  my  hand  one  day, 
a  book  of  Martin  Luther's.  It  was  his  comment  on  the 
Galatians.  It  was  also  so  old^  that  it  was  ready  to  fall 
piece  from  piece  if  I  did  but  turn  it  over.  Now  I  was 
much  pleased  that  such  an  old  book  had  fallen  into  my 
hands.  I  found  my  condition  as  largely  and  profoundly 
handled,  in  Ids  experience,  as  if  his  book  had  been  written 
out  of  my  heart.  I  do  prefer  this  book  of  Martin  Luther 
(excepting  the  Bible)  before  all  the  books  that  ever  I  have 
seen,  as  most  fit  for  a  wounded  conscience." 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  139 

Thus  it  was  before  the  wounds  of  his  own  conscience 
were  healed,  and  whilst  he  had  not  got  far  out  of  his 
temptations,  that  Bunyan  met  with  Luther.  It  was  a 
happy  meeting".  *'  In  the  work  of  that  passionate  and 
mighty  mind,"  says  Dr.  Southey,  "  he  saw  his  own  soul 
reflected  as  in  a  glass.  Like  Luther  he  had  undergone  the 
agonies  of  unbelief  and  deadly  fear,  and  according  to  his 
own  persuasion  wrestled  with  the  Enemy."  Bunyan  saw 
more  than  all  this  in  the  Saxon  glass.  What  chiefly  arrested 
and  interested  him  was,  the  "  grave  debate,  showing  that  the 
Law,  as  well  as  the  devil,  death,  and  hell,  hath  a  very  great 
hand  in  the  rise  of  blasphemy,  despair,  and  the  like."  This 
he  had  never  dreamt  of  before.  The  Law  had  often  slain 
all  his  hopes,  and  set  more  than  his  conscience  on  fire,  by 
crossing  his  wishes  ;  but  he  had  ascribed  both  the  death  of 
hope  and  the  wrath  of  passion,  to  the  direct  influence  of  the 
devil.  It  was,  therefore,  startling  as  well  as  "  very  strange  '' 
to  him  at  first,  to  be  warned  and  adjured  by  Luther,  not 
to  look  nor  listen  to  the  Law  of  God,  when  a  sense  of  guilt 
was  overwhelming  the  conscience,  and  sinking  the  heart  in 
despair.  He  had  to  watch  and  ponder  much,  before  he 
saw  how  the  utter  exclusion  of  Law  from  the  question  of 
pardon,  could  relieve  the  conscience  from  the  fear  of  wrath, 
without  relaxing  the  fear  of  sin  or  the  love  of  holiness. 
And  he  was  perfectly  astounded  to  hear  Luther  almost 
thank  the  devil,  for  calling  him  "  a  great  sinner."  Luther 
says  to  Satan,  "  in  telling  me  that  I  am  a  sinner,  thou  givest 
me  armour  and  weapons  against  thyself,  tliat  with  thine  own 
sword  I  may  cut  thy  throat,  and  tread  thee  under  my  feet ; 
— 'for  Christ  died  for  sinners.  Thou  (only)  puttest  me  in 
mind  of  God's  fatherly  love  towards  me,  and  of  the  benefit 
of  Christ,  as  often  as  thou  objectest  that  I  am  a  wretched 
and  condemned  sinner."  To  foil  Satan  thus,  with  his  own 
weapons,  was  a  new  thing  to  Bunyan.  But  he  was  an  apt 
scholar,  and  soon  learned  to  say  for  himself,  "  The  guilt  of 
sin  helped  me  much  :  for  still  as  that  would  come  upon  me. 


HO 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


the  blood  of  Christ  did  take  it  off  again,  and  again,  and 
again.'*  In  regard  to  Law  also,  he  was  soon  Lutheran 
enough  to  say,  *'  In  that  conscience  where,  but  just  now, 
did  reign  and  rage  the  law,  even  there  would  rest  and 
abide  the  peace  and  love  of  God,  through  Christ.** 

These  are  not  the  Lutheran  maxims,  which  History- 
records,  and  Poetry  immortalizes,  as  the  secret  of  the 
Reformation ;  but  these  were  the  maxims  which  endeared 
Luther  to  the  conscience  of  Europe.  Robertson  did  not 
see  this,  nor  even  Villers  understand  it  ;  but  Luther's 
doctrine  of  Justification  by  faith,  and  his  defiance  of  Satan 
to  condemn,  mustered  the  best  men  of  the  millions  who 
responded  to  him  with  acclamations,  when  he  threw 
the  Canon  Law  and  the  Pope's  Bull  into  the  bonfire  of 
Wittemberg,  exclaiming,  "  Let  eternal  fire  trouble  thee, 
because  thou  hast  troubled  the  Holy  One  of  God.'* 
Bunyan  is  a  proof  of  this.  It  was  Luther*s  sympathy  with 
uneasy  consciences,  and  Luther's  insight  into  the  devices 
of  Satan,  and  Luther's  exhibition  of  a  free  salvation,  which 
won  his  heart,  and  drew  from  his  pen  the  declaration — that 
the  work  on  the  Galatians  might  have  been  written  out  of 
his  own  heart. 

I  give  prominence  to  the  influence  of  Luther  upon 
Bunyan,  because  no  one  can  suspect  Bunyan  of  any 
approach  to  the  enormity  of  "  making  void  the  Law  by 
faith  •"  and  because  it  is  becoming  somewhat  too  fashionable 
to  boggle  at  Luther's  strong  language,  on  the  subject  of 
justification  by  faith  alone.  There  is,  indeed,  no  necessity 
for  using  all  the  saxonisms  of  the  Saxon  Reformer ;  but 
English,  which  does  not  say  that  Law  has  nothing  to  do 
with  justification,  is,  however  polished,  worse  than  vulgar, 
except  when  it  says  that  the  Law,  like  the  Prophets, 
witnesses  to  the  righteousness  which  is  by  faith. 

How  well  Bunyan  understood  Luther,  if  not  copied  after 
him  also,  will  be  seen  from  the  following  remarks  upon 
Paul's  doxology,   "  Now  unto   Him    that   is    able   to    do 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  141 

iexceeding-  abundantly  above  all  that  we  ask  or  think, 
according-  to  the  power  that  worketh  in  us,  unto  him  be 
glory  in  the  church  by  Christ  Jesus,  throughout  all  ages, 
world  without  end.  Amen."  "  What  can  be  more  plain  ? 
What  can  be  more  full  ?  What  can  be  more  suitable  to  the 
most  desponding  spirit  in  any  man  ?  God  can  do  more  than 
thou  knowest  he  will.  He  can  do  more  than  thou  tliinkest 
he  can.  What  dost  thou  think  ?  Why,  I  think,  saith  the 
sinner,  that  I  am  cast  away.  Well,  but  there  are  worse 
thoughts  than  these,  therefore  think  again.  Why,  saith  the 
sinner,  I  think  that  my  sins  are  as  many  as  all  the  sins  of 
the  world.  Indeed,  this  is  a  very  black  thought,  but  there 
are  worse  thoughts  than  this,  therefore  prithee  think  again. 
Why,  I  think,  saith  the  sinner,  that  God  is  not  able  to 
i  pardon  all  my  sins.  Ay,  now  thou  hast  thought  indeed. 
j  For  this  thought  makes  thee  look  more  like  a  devil  than  a 
i  man ;  and  yet,  because  thou  art  a  man,  and  not  a  devil, 
see  the  condescension  and  the  boundlessness  of  the  love  of 
thy  God.  He  is  able  to  do  above  all  that  we  think. 
Couldst  thou  (sinner)  if  thou  hadst  been  allowed,  thyself 
express  what  thou  wouldst  have  expressed,  the  greatness 
of  the  love  thou  wantest ;  with  words  that  could  have 
suited  thee  better  ?  For  it  is  not  said,  he  can  do  above 
what  we  think,  meaning  our  thinking  at  present,  but  above 
all  we  can  think  ;  meaning,  above  the  worst  and  most  soul 
dejecting  thoughts,  that  we  have  at  any  time.  Sometimes 
the  dejected  have  worse  thoughts  than  at  other  times  they 
have.  Well,  take  them  at  their  worst  times,  at  times  when 
they  think,  and  think  till  they  think  themselves  down  into 
the  very  pangs  of  hell,  yet  this  word  of  the  grace  of  God 
is  above  them,  and  shows  that  he  can  yet  recover  and  save 
these  miserable  people.  And  now  I  am  upon  this  subject, 
I  will  a  little  further  walk  and  travel  with  the  desponding 
ones,  and  will  put  a  few  words  in  their  mouths  for  their 
help  against  temptations  that  may  come  upon  them  here- 
after.    For  as  Satan  follows  such  now,  with  charges  and 


142  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

applications  of  guilt,  so  he  may  follow  them  with  interro- 
gatories  and  appeals ;  for  he  can  tell  how  by  appeals,  as 
well  as  by  charging  of  sin,  to  sink  and  drown  the  sinner 
whose  soul  he  has  leave  to  engage.  Suppose,  therefore, 
that  some  distressed  man  or  woman  should  after  this  way 
be  engaged,  and  Satan  should  with  his  interrogatories  and 
appeals  be  busy  with  them,  to  drive  them  to  desperation, 
the  text  last  mentioned,  to  say  nothing  of  the  subject  of 
our  discourse,  yields  plenty  of  help  for  the  relief  of  such  a 
one.  Says  Satan,  Dost  thou  not  know  that  thou  hast 
horribly  sinned  ?  Yes,  says  the  soul,  I  do.  Says  Satan, 
Dost  thou  not  know  that  thou  art  one  of  the  vilest  in  all 
the  pack  of  professors  ?  Yes,  says  the  soul,  I  do.  Says 
Satan,  Doth  not  thy  conscience  tell  thee  that  thou  art  and 
hast  been  more  base  than  any  of  thy  fellows  can  imagine 
thee  to  be  ?  Yes,  says  the  soul,  my  conscience  tells  me  so. 
Well,  saith  Satan,  now  will  I  come  upon  thee  with  my 
appeals.  Art  thou  not  a  graceless  wretch  ?  Yes.  Hast 
thou  not  an  heart  to  be  sorry  for  this  wickedness  ?  No, 
not  as  I  should.  And  albeit,  saith  Satan,  thou  prayest 
sometimes,  yet  is  not  thy  heart  possessed  with  a  belief  that 
God  will  not  regard  thee?  Yes,  says  the  sinner.  Why 
then,  despair,  and  go  hang  thyself,  saith  the  devil.  And 
now  we  are  at  the  end  of  the  thing  designed  and  driven  at 
by  Satan.  But  what  shall  I  now  do  ?  saith  the  sinner.  I 
answer.  Take  up  the  words  of  the  text  against  him,  '  Christ 
loves  with  a  love  that  passeth  knowledge.'  And  answereth 
him  farther,  saying,  Satan,  though  I  cannot  think  that  God 
loves  me,  though  I  cannot  think  that  God  will  save  me, 
yet  I  will  not  yield  to  thee  ;  for  God  can  do  more  than  I 
think  he  can.  He  can  do  exceeding  abundantly  above  what 
I  ask  or  think.  Thus  the  Text  helpeth  where  obstructions 
are  put  in  against  our  believing  It  is  a  Text  made  up  of 
words  picked  and  packed  together,  by  the  wisdom  of  God  : 
picked  and  packed  together,  on  purpose  for  the  succour 
and  relief  of  the  tempted,  that  they  may  when  in  the  very 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  143 

midst  of  their  distresses  cast  themselves  upon  the  love  of 
I  God  in  Christ  for  salvation." — Worksy  p.  1766. 

It  would  be  a  delightful  task  to  me,  fond  and  familiar  as 
I  am  with  both  Luther  and  Bunyan,  to  parallelize  their 
mature  views  of  the  great  doctrines  of  the  Gospel.  But 
my  limits  forbid.  No  forbidding,  however,  shall  prevent 
me  from  imploring  theological  Students,  to  trace  out,  mark, 
and  remember,  the  climdings  of  these  original  and  mighty 
I  minds,  with  the  tuned  harps  of  Inspiration  and  Heaven. 
[There  is,  indeed,  no  polish  upon  the  language  of  either. 
They  blurt  out,  in  blunt  terms,  their  opinions  of  truth  and 
duty  :  but  their  Saxon  is  a  talismanic  Sesame  at  all  the 
doors  of  consideration.  It  is  quite  possible  to  yawn,  if  not 
to  fall  asleep,  over  John  Howe  or  Robert  Hall,  when  they 
wire-draw  the  wedges  of  Sanctuary  Gold,  and  then  festoon 
the  wire  in  artificial  forms  of  ornate  beauty :  but  Luther 
and  Bunyan  make  the  ground  shake  again,  when  they  throw 
down  the  golden  wedges ;  and  never  make  the  metal  shine, 
except  when  they  lay  it  in  thick  plates  upon  the  Mercy-seat, 
or  in  wide  expanse  on  the  walls,  of  the  Temple  :  and  then, 
they  make  us  hear  the  unrolling  of  the  sheets,  as  well  as 
see  the  burnished  radiance  of  them . 

Perhaps  the  best  thing  I  can  do,  in  closing  this  brief 
Chapter,  is,  to  record  the  Imprimatur  of  the  Bishop  of 
London,  who  was  contemporary  with  the  first  translation 
of  Luther  on  the  Galatians.  The  next  Metropolitan,  who 
shall  speak  in  Edwin's  style  and  spirit  of  that  work,  will 
eclipse  the  only  two  of  the  moderns,  whom  I  have  studied ; 
— Lowtli  and  Porteus. 

The  Metropolitan  of  1575,  told  the  church  and  the 
world,  that  Luther's  work  being  brought  to  him  to  peruse 
and  consider, — "  I  thought  it  my  part,  not  only  to  allow  of 
it  to  print,  but  also  to  commend  it  to  the  Reader,  as  a 
treatise  most  comfortable  to  all  afflicted  consciences, 
exercised  in  the  School  of  Christ.  The  Author  felt  what 
he  spake,  and  had  experience  of  what  he  wrote,  and  thus 


144  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

was  able,  more  lively,  to  express  both  the  assaults  and 
salving  ;  the  order  of  the  battle,  and  the  means  of  the 
victory. 

"  If  Christ  justify,  who  can  condemn  ? — saith  St.  Paul. 
This  most  7iecessary  doctrine,  the  Author  hath  most  sub- 
stantially declared  in  his  Commentary.  Satan  is  the  enemy: 
the  victory  is  only  by  faith  in  Christ." — Imprimatur. 

It  would  seem  from  the  Bishop's  Preface,  that  the  first 
translators  of  Luther's  work  stuck  fast,  either  from  igno- 
rance or  fear,  in  the  midst  of  it ;  and  that  more  learned 
men,  caring  for  nothing  so  much  as  for  the  "relief  of 
afflicted  minds,"  put  "  to  their  helping  hand,  from  zeal," 
but  kept  back  their  names  from  modesty.  Being  thus  left 
in  ignorance  of  the  finishers  of  the  translation,  I  say 
nothing  about  its  beginners, — much  as  I  might  say. 

It  deserves  notice,  that  Bunyan  improved  upon  Luther, 
in  speaking  of  the  Law.  He  did  not,  like  him,  rave  or 
stamp,  when  smashing  its  "great  teeth  and  strong  horn," 
as  a  cursing  Covenant.  He  saw  how  it  was  abolished,  as 
"  the  ministry  of  Condemnation,"  at  the  cross  of  Christ. 
Neither  Bunyan  nor  Luther,  however,  caught  Paul's 
splendid  idea,  that  the  Chirograph  of  Law  was  nailed  to 
the  Cross,  as  Christ  himself  was,  without  losing  any  thing 
of  its  glory  or  authority  as  a  Rule  of  life.  Both  Christ 
and  Law  were  crucified,  in  order  to  be  crowned  for 
ever. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  145 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


SATAN    AND    HIS    ANGELS. 


Those  who  study  Bunyaii  will  read  this  Chapter.  It  will, 
I  hope,  ^^ provoke"  %ome  Theolog-ian  to  grapple  with  the 
philosophy  of  Satanic  agency.  Neither  the  Bampton  nor 
the  Congregational  Lectures  will  be  complete,  until  they 
take  up  this  subject.  Robert  Hall,  had  he  been  spared, 
would  have  become  a  Lecturer,  rather  than  leave  the 
subject  as  it  now  stands. 

It  is  much  to  be  regretted,  that  no  commanding  mind 
has  girded  up  its  loins,  or  clothed  itself  in  all  the  armour 
of  Light  (reason  and  revelation),  in  order  to  challenge  the 
public  mind  on  the  subject  of  "  Satan  and  his  Angels." 
The  question  of  the  existence  and  agency  of  Evil  Spirits, 
should  not  be  left  unsettled ;  nor  at  issue  between  the 
superstitious  and  the  scoffing,  or  the  credulous  and  incre- 
dulous. It  should  be  rescued  from  the  hands  of  both,  and 
set  at  rest,  by  the  "high  hand"  of  Christian  Philosophy: 
for  it  is  a  practical  question,  and  fraught  with  National 
as  well  as  personal  interests.  The  claims  of  Humanity,  as 
much  as  the  credit  of  Religion,  demand  this.  If  there 
really  be  no  devil,  and  thus  no  danger  of  being  tempted 
but  by  each  other,  or  by  our  own  passions,  the  Laws  of  the 
country  should  no  longer  speak  of  *'  the  instigation  of  the 
devil ;"  nor  the  Catechism  of  Churches,  of  the  devil  or  his 
vrorks ;  nor  Ministei's  and  Parents,  of  his  wiles  or  snares. 
j3ut  if,  on  the  other  hand,  there  be  a  devil,  who  can  and 


146  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

does  tempt  men  to  sin,  and  whose  angels  and  agents  are 
actually  busy  at  this  demoralizing-  work,  the  awful  fact 
should  be  so  awfully  proclaimed,  that  no  witling  durst  laugh 
at  it  even  over  his  cups,  and  no  sciolist  evade  it  by  verbal 
criticisms. 

True  ;  the  subject  is  proclaimed  in  all  ways,  in  the  Bible. 
There,  Satan  is  frequently  named,  characterised,  denounced, 
and  pointed  out  as  the  Enemy  and  the  Tempter  of  man  : 
and  yet,  the  giddy  laugh  at  him,  and  the  busy  forget  him,  and 
would-be  philosophers  resolve  the  whole  affair  into  figures 
of  speech.  In  the  fashionable  slang  oi  modern  philosophy, 
the  devil  is  nothing  more  than  "  the  personified  principle 
of  evil." — Southey*s  Wesley. 

All  this  is  said  and  done,  in  the  very  face  of  a  Bible 
teeming  with  descriptions  of  Satan,  and  thundering  with 
warnings  against  his  wiles.  True !  This,  however,  is  not 
the  only  revealed  truth,  which  has  been  thus  treated  for 
ages,  and  yet  afterwards  was  lodged  in  the  public  mind, 
and  chartered  into  popularity,  by  the  commanding  influence 
of  a  great  name.  Public  opinion  has  never  played  with 
images  or  indulgences,  since  Luther,  Knox,  and  Cranmer 
fought  the  battle  of  the  Reformation.  Whitefield  and 
Wesley  drove  baptismal  regeneration  from  all  pulpits  and 
all  heads,  into  which  the  Cross  of  Christ  was  admitted. 
Wardlaw,  Magee,  and  Smith,  turned  the  New  Version  of 
Socinianism  and  the  creed  of  Priestley,  into  an  old  bye- 
word.  David  Bogue  awoke  the  Church  to  the  claims  of  the 
heathen,  and  John  Harris  has  frightened  her  at  the  worship 
of  Mammon.  Thus,  a  great  truth  can  be  forced  into 
general  notice,  and  fastened  upon  so  many  leading  minds, 
by  one  influential  Champion,  that  it  will  work  its  way 
through  all  ranks  of  society,  and  tell  with  eff'ect  upon 
public  opinion  and  practice.  There  is,  therefore,  nothing 
in  all  the  wanton  or  flippant  modes  in  which  Satanic 
influence  is  sported  with,  which  may  not  be  checked  and 
put  down.     Mockery,  and  fearlessness,  and  heedlessness, 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  147 

in  reference  to  this  spiritual  danger,  may  be  rendered  as 
rare  and  unpopular  as  blasphemy  or  ribaldry. 

Why  has  not  this  been  done?  Has  it  been  shunned 
from  a  fear  of  making  the  devil  of  too  much  importance  ? 
Have  the  Champions  of  orthodoxy  thought  that  it  would 
be  paying  him  too  high  a  compliment^  to  challenge  him  ? 
Do  they  suspect,  that  the  discussion  of  the  subject  would 
make  all  that  is  bad  in  public  opinion,  and  all  that  is 
unhealthy  in  public  feeling,  worse  ?  I  will  not  suppose 
this.  The  world  is  too  old,  and  the  Church  too  wise,  to 
dream  or  drivel  again  about  the  devils  of  superstition. 
These  are  all  gone  for  ever,  with  the  ghosts  and  hobgoblins 
of  antiquity.  Science  and  common-sense  cast  out  these 
imps  ;  and,  therefore,  no  superstition  can  bring  them  back. 
They  sunk  into  derisive  contempt ;  and  nothing  recovers 
from  that  overthrow.  Even  in  regard  to  the  devil  himself, 
the  cloven-foot  is  almost  out  of  date,  and  his  horns  are  given 
up  entirely.  Thus  there  is  no  danger  of  reviving  any  old 
fictions  or  fancies,  by  drawing  public  attention  to  the 
revealed  facts  of  Satanic  agency  ;  especially  in  the  case  of 
John  Bunyan. 

Is  there,  then,  any  danger  of  creating  a  panic,  bv 
bringing  home  to  the  public  mind  the  whole  truth  upon 
this  subject  ?  Would  the  devil  be  too  7nuch  dreaded  by 
men,  if  they  really  believed  all  that  the  Scriptures  say,  or 
Bunyan  believed  of  him  ?  This  question  is  not  answered 
by  saying,  that  many  who  have  Scriptural  views  of  Satan, 
are  neither  in  terror  nor  in  bondage  of  spirit,  by  them. 
Such  persons  have  Scriptural  views  of  Grace  and  Providence 
also,  which  prevent  dismay,  or  counterbalance  suspicion. 
W  hat,  however,  would  be  the  effect  of  realizing  Satan,  just 
as  he  is  revealed,  on  a  mind  unprepared  to  fall  back  for 
relief  upon  either  Grace  or  Providence  ?  Such  minds 
abound,  alas,  everywhere  :  and,  therefore,  much  as  I 
regret  the  want  of  a  Work,  which  should  amount  to  a 
Demonstration  on  this  subject,  I  should  deprecate  a  mere 


148 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


demonstration.  It  mig-ht  bring-  as  many  into  bondage  all 
their  lifetime  through  fear  of  the  devil,  as  are  so  through 
fear  of  death. 

There  is  no  tendency  of  this  kind  in  what  the  Bible 
says  about  Satan  ;  much  as  it  says.  It  never  introduces 
him  alone,  nor  apart  from  some  promise  or  maxim,  calcu- 
lated to  balance  whatever  fear  the  description  of  his  power 
or  malignity  may  create.  An  Infidel  might  be  challenged 
on  this  fact.  Let  him  make  out  the  revealed  devil  as  he 
will,  and  exaggerate  to  the  uttermost  his  shocking  attributes, 
and  caricature  all  their  tendency  to  frighten  weak  minds 
and  enslave  susceptible  imaginations  ;  still,  he  cannot  prove 
that  this  is  their  design.  If  candid  or  honest,  he  durst  not 
assert  it :  for  in  every  instance,  there  stands  at  "  Satan's 
right  hand  "  some  "  Angel  of  the  Lord  to  resist  him,"  or 
to  "  bind  him."  I  mean,  every  awful  or  warning  sight  of 
his  character  and  designs,  is  preceded  or  followed  by  some 
great  and  precious  promise  of  deliverance,  or  by  some  kind 
advice,  directly  calculated  to  alleviate  all  unnecessary  and 
tormenting  fear.  He  has  not,  therefore,  studied  the  Bible, 
who  can  call  Satan  a  hughear  to  frighten  children,  or  to 
affront  the  understandings  of  men.  The  most  superficial 
reader  even,  may  see  at  a  glance,  that  whenever  Satan  is 
brought  forward  there,  he  is  followed  by  promises  more 
numerous  than  his  temptations,  and  confronted  by  Shields 
more  powerful  than  his  fiery  darts.  Thus  the  revealed 
Satan,  however  formidable  or  ferocious,  is  always  placed 
before  us  in  the  Bible,  between  a  double  blaze  of  light, 
which  shows  clearly  that  he  will  flee  now  if  resisted,  and 
that  God  will  bruise  him  shortly,  under  the  feet  of  all  who 
try  to  overcome  him  by  the  blood  of  the  Lamb  and  the 
word  of  their  Testimony.  Bunyan  found  this  to  be  the 
fact. 

Such  being  the  connexion  in  which  we  are  warned 
against  the  devil,  and  encouraged  to  war  against  him,  it  is 
astonishing  that  any  man  who  acknowledges  the  Scriptures 


I  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  149 

to  be  the  Word  of  God,  could  imagine  the  devil  to  be  merely 
a  figure  of  speech,  or  a  personification  of  the  principle  of 
evil.  Why ;  all  that  is  sweetest  in  the  Promises,  all  that 
is  greatest  in  the  Prophecies,  all  that  is  most  inspiring  in 
the  prospects  of  Glory,  all  that  is  wonderful  in  the  love  of 
Christ  and  in  the  grace  and  power  of  God,  is  all  set  against 
the  power  of  Satan,  as  that  power  bears  against  mankind. 
Can  such  sublime  Jhcts  be  thus  arrayed  against  a  bold 
figure  of  speech  ?     This  would,  indeed,  be 

"  Ocean  into  Tempest  wrought, 
To  waft  a  feather,  or  to  drown  a  fiy  !" 

Besides,  it  really  requires  no  great  stock  or  strength  of 
faith,  in  a  world  such  as  ours  is,  and  always  has  been,  to 
believe  that  there  really  is  a  real  devil.  Some  men  have 
certainly  been  very  like  the  devil.  Pharaoh,  Herod,  Nero, 
and  some  of  the  old  Popes  of  Rome,  did  not  come  far  short 
of  his  cruelty  :  Voltaire,  and  one  of  our  own  Poets,  took  a 
very  fiend-like  pleasure  in  poisoning  the  fountains  of  truth 
and  morals.  And  many  Slave-traders,  Slave-drivers,  and 
Slave-owners,  have  almost  equalled  Satan,  both  in  lying 
and  in  tyranny.  This  is  not,  I  am  aware,  proof  that  there 
is  a  devil  ;  but  it  renders  the  supposition  highly  probable. 
It  even  proves,  that  no  limit  can  be  set  to  the  lengths 
which  a  godless  man  can  go,  when  his  passions  are  enflamed 
and  unbalanced.  All  the  concession,  therefore,  required 
in  order  to  the  belief  of  a  godless  and  reckless  Spirit,  is, 
an  admission  that  an  Angel  might  rebel  and  be  punished, 
as  well  as  a  man  ;  or  fall  as  Adam  fell.  A  less  concession 
than  this,  however,  will  do.  Let  it  only  be  granted,  that 
an  Angel  might  wish  for  more  power,  or  more  freedom, 
than  God  thought  good  for  him  to  possess,  or  would  grant 
him.  This  is  certainly  not  an  impossibility.  If  that  Angel, 
therefore,  determined  to  get  possession  of  what  was  denied 
him,  in  spite  of  God,  and  at  all  hazards  (a  thing  we  see 
men    do    every    day),    both    his    disappointment    and    his 


150  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

punishment  are  inevitable.  He  must  be  expelled  from 
Heaven,  and  branded  with  shame,  if  God  is  of  purer  eyes 
than  to  behold  rebels  around  his  throne.  And  when  thus 
banished  and  branded,  what  is  more  natural  than  for  such  a 
rebel  to  become  reckless?  Having-  no  hope,  nothing-  is 
so  likely  as  that  he  should  become  the  sworn  foe  of  God, 
and  of  all  that  God  loves  or  cares  for.  Men  hate  God  and 
Religion  in  this  way,  with  less  to  exasperate  or  embitter 
their  spirit :  yes  ;  men  who  in  youth  smiled  as  cherubs  at 
their  mother's  side,  and  sang-  like  angels  at  their  mother's 
knee,  when  they  first  heard  of  their  Heavenly  Father ! 

Thus,  there  is  no  more  real  difficulty  in  conceiving  how 
fallen  Angels  should  become  fierce,  and  malignant,  and 
reckless,  than  how  a  gentle  boy  should  become  a  very 
monster  of  iniquity.  The  chief  difficulty  in  regard  to 
Satan  is,  not  that  he  is  inclined  to  seduce,  and  ensnare,  and 
destroy  ;  but  that  God  should  allow  him  to  try  to  do  so. 
Now  this  is  certainly  a  grave  difficulty.  It  is,  however, 
only  one  of  many,  of  the  same  kind.  Beauty,  wealth,  wine, 
luxuries  and  dress,  become  ruinous  snares  :  but  who  ques- 
tions the  justice  or  the  wisdom  of  God  in  creating  these 
things ;  or  requires  as  the  condition  of  piety,  that  they 
should  all  be  swept  out  of  the  world,  and  nothing  left  to 
eat,  drink,  wear,  or  admire,  which  could  be  abused,  or 
become  a  temptation  ?  No  one.  And  yet,  these  things 
appeal  more  directly  to  our  senses  and  our  passions,  than 
Satan  does  to  our  principles. 

This  remark  does  not,  I  am  aware,  go  far  towards 
removing  the  difficulty.  It  merely  proves  that  there  are 
other  difficulties  to  solve,  in  the  probationary  state  j^f  man. 
Besides,  the  things  just  named  are  all  good  in  themselves, 
and  only  do  evil  when  they  are  perverted  from  their 
original  purpose ;  whereas  Satan  is  evil,  and  nothing  but 
evil. 

If  I  could  express  this  more  strongly,  I  would :  because 
if  ever  the  difficulty  before  us  is  removed,  it  must  be  fairly 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  151 

met.  Here  then  is  a  being-  thoroughly  bad,  and  intent 
upon  mischief,  permitted  by  God  to  g-o  about  as  a  roaring- 
lion,  seeking-  whom  he  may  devour.  Now  this,  to  say  the 
least  of  it,  is  very  strange,  at  first  sight.  Not  much 
stranger,  however,  than  some  other  things  around  us. 
There  are  rank  poisons  in  not  a  few  minerals,  metals,  and 
plants  ;  and  none  of  them  labelled  such,  by  nature.  Man 
has  had  to  find  them  all  out  by  experience  and  observation. 
But  now  that  these  poisons  are  known,  they  can  be 
turned  into  the  best  medicines  by  chemical  skill.  Thus  a 
thing  may  be  very  bad  in  itself,  and  yet  turned  to  good 
account  by  wise  management.  Now,  what  if  it  can  be 
shown  that  incalculable  good  might  result,  and  is  intended 
by  God  to  result,  to  man,  from  the  existence  and  agency 
of  Satan  in  our  world  ? 

However  this  may  be,  one  thing  is  obvious  and  certain  ; 
that  it  is  not  for  his  oivn  sake,  nor  to  humour  and  gratify 
the  devil,  that  God  permits  him  to  be  at  large  in  the  world. 
For  whose  sake  then,  is  it  ?  This,  now,  is  the  real  ques- 
tion. Meet  it  fairly  for  a  moment.  We  shall  understand 
Bunyan*s  history  all  the  better  by  doing  so.  For  whose 
sake,  then,  is  Satan  allowed  so  much  freedom  and  power  ? 
Not,  we  may  be  sure,  for  his  own,  nor  in  compliment  to 
himself.  Well ;  in  this  world,  there  is  no  one  else  to 
benefit  by  the  permission  but  man :  and  Satan  intends  him 
no  good !  True  ;  and  man  expects  none  from  Satan.  It 
is  not  true,  however,  that  no  good  is  to  be  gotten^  because 
he  intends  none,  and  we  expect  none.  The  real  question 
is,  what  does  God  intend  to  teach  us,  by  quartering  Satan 
upon  us  ?  Now  I  am  neither  afraid  nor  ashamed  to  say, 
that  God  has  thus  given  us  a  living  lecture  upon  the  worth, 
need,  and  nature  of  his  great  salvation,  more  intelligible 
and  impressive  when  duly  weighed,  than  any  Commentary 
on  the  Bible  ever  written,  or  than  any  uninspired  sermon 
ever  preached.  There  is  no  such  illustration  of  what  the 
Bible  means  by  the  loss  of  the  Divine  image  and  favour  j 


152  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

by  the  curse  of  the  Law  and  the  wrath  to  come,  as  Satan 
and  his  ang-els  present.  Their  character  and  doom  turn 
these  words  into  things^  and  make  the  words  and  things 
flaming-  realities.  Yes ;  no  man  can  look  at  the  lot  and 
prospects  of  the  devil,  as  the  Bible  presents  them,  and 
think  sin  a  light  matter,  or  hell  a  doubtful  place.  It  was, 
therefore,  to  bring  home  upon  the  human  mind  a  solemn 
and  settled  conviction,  that  sin  is  no  trifle  and  hell  no 
fancy,  that  God  permitted  the  agency  of  Satan  on  earth. 
This  then  is  one  good^  which  God  intended,  and  which  we 
may  reap.  It  is,  I  grant,  not  generally  reaped.  How  can 
it  ?  Men  talk  in  a  half-jest,  half-earnest  way  about  the 
devil,  which  defeats  God's  kind  and  wise  purpose.  This 
unmanly  and  flippant  style  of  talking  about  the  devil  and 
his  angels,  almost  defeats  also  the  touching  pathos  of  that 
Scriptural  appeal  concerning  Christ, — "  He  took  not  upon 
him  the  nature  of  Angels,  but  the  seed  of  Abraham." 
There  is  no  such  appeal  to  our  Gratitude  as  this,  in  the 
first  instance.  It  pours  itself  out  in  a  mighty  flood  upoii 
our  self-love.  It  compels  us  to  ask,  what  must  have  been 
the  consequences  to  us,  had  Christ  taken  upon  him  the 
nature  of  fallen  angels,  and  died  to  save  them  instead  oi 
us  ?  Thus  God  gives  us  a  sight  of  the  sovereignty,  richeSj 
and  freeness  of  his  grace  to  man,  by  leaving  Satan  abroad 
amongst  men,  which  no  words  nor  emblems,  however  vivid, 
could  have  presented. 

When  I  consider  these  things  calmly  and  closely,  ] 
cannot,  on  the  whole,  regret  either  the  existence  or  the 
agency  of  Satan,  so  far  as  mankind  are  concerned.  It  is 
an  evil  undoubtedly,  and  a  great  one ;  but  it  is  certain) 
the  least  of  two  great  evils :  for  nothing  can  be  worse, 
so  bad,  for  men,  as  to  think  lightly  of  sin,  wrath,  and^ 
Salvation.  Now  although  Satan's  chief  aim  in  all  his 
temptations  is  to  make  men  think  lightly  of  these  solemn 
things,  still,  there  is  more  in  Satan's  lot  to  warn  men,  than 
there  is  in  all  his  wiles  to  betray  them.    His  own  character, 


t  IS 

1 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  153 

condition  and  doom,  g-ive  the  lie  direct  to  all  the  lies  he 
ever  palmed  upon  the  world.  Besides,  it  is  any  thing  but 
certain,  that  the  world  would  have  been  better  than  it  is, 
if  Satan  had  been  kept  out  of  it.  No  one  can  prove,  that 
even  our  first  Parents  would  not  have  sinned  and  fallen,  if 
they  had  not  been  tempted.  Indeed,  Adam  was  not 
directly  tempted  by  the  devil,  when  he  transgressed. 
Accordingly,  in  excusing  himself,  he  did  not  say,  "  the 
Serpent  beguiled  me,  and  I  did  eat :"  but  "  the  woman 
Thou  gavest  to  be  with  me,  she  gave  me,  and  I  did  eat." 
Even  this  is  not  all :  God  himself  did  not  charge  Satan 
with  tempting  Adam  ;  nor  Adam,  but  with  listening  to  the 
voice  of  Eve.  As  Adam,  therefore,  rebelled  without  being 
exposed  to  the  wiles  of  the  Tempter,  it  is  impossible  to 
prove  that  he  would  have  continued  faithful,  if  there  had 
been  no  Tempter.  All  the  probability  is  on  the  other 
side :  for  if  the  desire  to  know  both  good  and  evil,  upon  a 
god-like  scale,  could  ensnare  the  woman  in  one  way,  it  was 
quite  as  likely  to  betray  the  man  in  another  way  sometime. 

It  is  worse  than  puerile,  it  is  inexpressibly  contemptible, 
to  speak  or  think  of  Eden  being  lost  by  eating  an  apple. 
There  is  an  awful,  though  guilty  sublimity  in  the  ambition 
which  ruined  Adam  and  Eve.  They  fell  from  human 
I  perfection,  by  attempting  to  reach  divine  wisdom.  They 
were  angel-like  in  knowledge ;  and  they  tried  to  be  god- 
j  like  in  it  too.  Thus  it  was  for  no  trifie,  they  perilled  soul 
or  body. 

Such,  then,  being  the  object  for  which  they   hazarded 

their  all,  for  Time  and  Eternity,  it  is  any  thing  but  certain, 

I  that  they  would  not  have   done   the  same,  if  Satan  had 

I  never  interfered.     They  might,  for  any  thing  which  can  be 

I  shown  to  the  contrary,  have  rebelled  even  more  deliberately, 

or  sinned  just  as  Satan  himself  did.     In  like  manner,  it 

cannot  be  proved  that  the  absence  of  Satan  since  the  Fall, 

would  have  kept  the  world  from  being  so  wicked  as  it  is. 

Its  wickedness  might  have  been  of  another  kind  in  some 


154  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

respects ;  and  yet,  not  at  all  in  a  less  degree.  Accordingly, 
the  bloody  and  libidinous  vices  prevail  most  in  those  nations 
and  tribes  of  the  earth,  where  Satan  does  least,  and  visits 
but  seldom.  Yes  ;  it  is  not  where  he  "  goeth  about  most 
as  a  roaring  lion,"  that  cruelty  or  sensuality  are  most 
rampant  or  universal.  There  is,  indeed,  too  much  of  both 
prevails  in  Christendom,  "  where  Satan's  seat  is  ;"  but 
nothing  like  so  much  as  where  he  goes  only  occasionally. 
He  wanders,  indeed,  "  to  and  fro  on  the  earth,"  and  goeth 
*'  up  and  down  in  it ;"  and  thus,  no  doubt,  visits  it  all  from 
time  to  time :  but,  certainly,  not  all  its  parts  alike.  For, 
as  it  is  the  progress  and  influence  of  true  Religion,  which 
Satan  wars  against,  he  has  no  occasion  to  walk  often  over 
the  ground  where  false  religions  are  established  and 
triumphant.  He  has,  in  fact,  little  or  nothing  to  call  him 
into  any  Heathen  or  Mohammedan  nation,  where  the 
Gospel  is  not  assailing  his  kingdom.  He  can  well  afford  to 
remain  chiefly  in  Christendom,  whilst  Christians  leave  his 
principal  strongholds  in  China,  India,  Japan,  and  Turkey, 
unassailed,  and  almost  unchallenged.  The  Church  has, 
indeed,  of  late,  compelled  him  to  look  sharply  after  some 
of  her  Ambassadors,  and  to  revisit  more  frequently  than 
usual  a  few  portions  of  his  empire  :  but  she  has  not 
given  him  much  trouble  as  ^j?-i.  "  And  verily,"  she  has 
her  "  due  reward  !"  Sataa  employs  the  time,  strength, 
and  stratagem,  she  thus  renders  needless  abroad,  in  cor- 
rupting, dividing,  and  weakening  her  at  home. 

It  may  not  be  usual  to  speak  thus  definitely  and  explicitly 
about  the  movements  of  Satan  :  but  it  would  be  worse  than 
absurd  to  write  vague  generalities  on  the  subject.  These 
have  done  incalculable  mischief;  and  will  continue  to  do 
so,  until  they  are  flung  out  of  the  language  of  theology, 
and  replaced  with  the  words  of  Scripture.  No  Scriptural 
phrase,  even  when  highly  figurative,  suggests  any  extrava- 
gant or  ridiculous  idea  of  the  devil  himself,  or  of  his 
angels.      Men   often   speak,    and   even    write — but    God 


LIFE    OF    BUN Y AN.  155 

never — as  if  Satan  were  every  where  at  the  same  time,  or 
working-  equally  in  all  "the  children  of  disobedience"  in 
both  hemispheres  of  the  world.  God  says,  that  Satan 
"  goeth  about  ;"  but  not  that  he  is  in  two  places  at  one 
time.  God  says,  that  Satan  is  a  Tempter ;  but  not  that 
all  temptation  comes  from  him  alone.  God  represents 
Satan  as  taking  the  lead  in  evil ;  but  not  as  working 
without  human  agents  and  infernal  spirits. 

Robert  Hall,  with  his  usual  elegance  and  accuracy,  says, 
"  We  are  taught   (by  the  word  of  God)  to   conceive  of 
Satan  as  the  head  of  a  spiritual  empire  of  great  extent, 
and  comprehending  within  itself  innumerable  subordinate 
agents.     The  term  Satan,  in  application  to  this  subject,  is 
invariably  found  in  the  singula;-  number  ;   implying  that 
there  is  one  designated  by  that  appellation."    "  Conceiving 
Satan,  (then)  agreeably  to  .ae  intimations  of  the  word  of 
God,  to  be  the  chief  or  head  of  a  spiritual  dominion,  we 
easily  account  for  the  extent  of  the  agency  he  is  affirmed 
to  exert,  in  tempting  and  seducing  the  human  race ;  not 
by  supposing  him   personally  present  whenever   such  an 
operation  is  going  on,  but  by  referring  it  to  his  auspices^ 
and   considering   it    as    belonging   to    the    history  of  his 
empire."     "  In  describing  the   affairs  of  an  empire  it  is 
the  uniform  custom  of  the  Historian,  to  ascribe  its  achieve- 
ments to  one  person ; — to  the  ruling  mind,  under  whose 
auspices  they  are  performed,  and  by  whose  authority  they 
are  effected.     Victories   and  defeats    are  ascribed  to  him 
who  sustains  the  supreme  power,  without  meaning  for  a 
moment  to   insinuate   that    they  were    the    result    of  his 
individual  agency.     Thus  in  relating  the  events  of  the  last 
war,  the  ruler  of  France   would  be  represented  as   con- 
ducting at  once  the  most  multifarious  movements,  in  the 
most  remote  parts  of  Europe ;  where  nothing  more  was 
intended  than  that  they  were  executed  directly  or  indirectly, 
by  his  order.     On  this  principle,  no  more   ambiguity  or 
omnipresence  is  attributed  to   Satan,  than  to  Alexander, 


156  LIFE    OF    13UNYAN. 

Cesar,  or  Tamerlane,  whose  power  was  felt,  and  their 
authority  acknowledged,  far  beyond  the  limits  of  their 
personal  presence." — HalVs  Works,  vol.  v.  p.  68. 

Thus  it  is  not  scriptural  to  suppose  Satan,  in  person,  to 
be  often  in  every  place  where  evil  is  going  on,  nor  yet  to 
ascribe  to  his  direct  influence  every  glaring  evil  in  any 
place.  Indeed,  it  is  not  necessary  that  either  his  hand  or 
his  eye  should  be  upon  all  his  works,  nor  upon  all  his 
agents,  constantly,  in  those  places  of  the  earth  where  his 
dominion  is  greatest :  for  that  dominion  perpetuates  itself 
by  its  own  working,  wherever  Christianity  lets  it  alone. 
Accordingly,  he  has  had  but  little  or  no  trouble  in  some 
of  the  greatest  nations  of  earth,  since  the  moment  he 
completed  the  machinery  of  their  false  religions.  That 
machinery  must  have  cost  him  no  small  labour  at  first : 
but  now  it  needs  only  oiling  from  time  to  time,  and  hardly 
that  throughout  the  chief  Asiatic  nations.  In  none  of 
them  has  he  had  to  alter  it  much.  It  has  done  his  work 
to  his  heart's  content,  for  thousands  of  years  in  China  and 
India,  without  a  new  wheel,  spring,  pulley,  or  weight. 
Satan  has  had  to  alter  a  little  the  machinery  of  both 
Popery  and  Mohammedism,  in  order  to  suit  the  times 
and  vicissitudes  of  the  Beast  and  the  False  Prophet  j  but 
Hindooism,  and  Budhism  have  requited  little  or  no 
mending,  since  he  made  them.  Now,  indeed,  they  are 
undergoing  a  little  alteration,  where  Missionaries  are 
exposing  them  before  the  eyes  of  British  Authorities  ;  and 
where  Bibles  and  Schools  are  spreading :  but  it  is  only 
there,  that  Satan  has  to  soften  any  of  the  original 
features,  or  to  change  any  of  the  old  forms  of  abominable 
idolatry. 

It  is  a  curious  fact  in  the  history  of  Satan's  reign  on 
earth,  that  as  he  never  repeated  the  first  experiment  he  tried 
upon  Job,  in  order  to  overthrow  a  good  man,  by  stripping 
and  peeling  him,  so  he  never  repeated  in  any  nation  the 
experiment  he  tried  upon  Greece  and  the  Roman  empire, 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  157 

by  a  refined  idolatry.  He  outwitted  himself  completely, 
when  he  allied  the  fine  Arts  with  Heathenism.  He 
thought  that  by  giving-  beauty  to  idols,  and  sublimity  to 
temples,  he  would  give  permanency  to  his  power  in  all  the 
civilized  world.  And  the  experiment  succeeded  won- 
derfully for  ages.  It  defeated  itself,  however,  when 
Christianity  challenged  the  Greeks  and  the  Romans. 
They  were  the  first  to  embrace  it !  The  fact  is,  the  Arts 
called  forth  mind,  and  improved  taste,  and  created  public 
opinion  ;  and  thus  broke  up  the  brutishness  of  man.  They 
did  not  make  him  happy,  nor  even  moral :  but  they  did 
make  him  think,  and  gave  some  polish  to  his  manners. 
The  apostles  of  the  Lamb  saw  this  ;  and,  knowing  well 
how  the  Gospel  could  inform  and  enlarge  the  mind,  even 
where  it  offended  the  heart,  they  bent  their  strength  upon 
civilized,  not  upon  savage,  man  ;  and  triumphed  gloriously. 
Thus  the  old  Serpent  was  caught  by  his  own  craft,  in  this 
instance :  but  he  never  tried  to  refine  a  nation  again,  by 
beautifying  its  gods.  He  has,  ever  since,  stuck  to  grim  or 
grotesque  idols,  or  to  images  of  beasts  and  creeping  things. 
Even  in  that  line  also,  he  is  now  defeating  himself  j  and 
he  knows  it !  Yes ;  he  feels  at  this  moment,  that  he  is 
playing  a  hazardous  and  desperate  game  to  keep  up  his 
kingdom  in  Europe  and  America,  and  throughout  the 
wide  world,  at  the  same  time.  He  sees,  and  cannot  help 
himself,  that  if  he  keep  his  place  in  Christendom,  he 
must  ply  the  European  and  American  mind  with  vain 
philosophy,  and  subtle  speculations,  and  refined  heresies : 
and  yet,  that  the  success  of  these  stratagems  at  home  will 
inevitably  create  a  tone  and  taste,  which  commercial 
nations  will  communicate  abroad,  until  idols  and  supersti- 
tion are  lashed  or  laughed  out  of  all  heathen  nations  which 
have  any  thing  to  sell  or  buy.  Thus  the  irreligious  mind 
which  Satan  is  endeavouring  to  create  at  home,  will,  by  its 
very  acuteness  and  dashing  independence,  create  mind 
enough  abroad  to  turn  the  laugh  of  Asia  against  all  the 


158  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

nonsense  of  antiquity,  and  the  scowl  of  Africa  against  all 
the  enormities  of  superstition. 

Thus  Satan's  policy,  whenever  he  transforms  himself 
"  into  an  ang-el  of  light,"  defeats  eventually  his  power 
as  an  angel  of  darkness.  Like  the  tide,  whatever  he 
gains  upon  the  one  coast,  he  loses  upon  the  other,  in  the 
long  run.  Providence  thus  overrules  for  good,  what  Satan 
intended  for  evil ;  and  that,  not  only  by  turning  to  account 
the  power  of  intellect,  which  temptations  to  scepticism  call 
forth,  but  also  by  rousing  to  the  defence  of  Truth,  the 
sanctified  talent  and  learning  of  the  Church  of  Christ. 
For  whenever  the  Enemy  has  sowed  Tares  with  a  high 
hand,  and  in  unusual  abundance,  the  Watchmen  on  the 
walls  of  Zion  have  sounded  an  alarm,  which  sent  all  the 
Sowers  of  "  good  seed "  into  the  field  to  re-sow  it  anew. 
We  thus  owe  to  his  attacks  upon  the  Gospel,  the  powerful 
and  spirited  defences  of  the  Gospel,  which  form  the  human 
bulwarks  of  the  national  faith. 

We  are  now  somewhat  prepared  to  look  calmly  and 
closely  at  the  curious  fact,  that  Satan  seems,  at  first  sight, 
to  have  but  little  to  do  with  the  promotion  of  the  sensual 
vices :  for  it  is  not  said  in  Scripture,  that  Noah,  Lot,  or 
David,  fell  by  Satanic  temptation.  That  is  not  brought  in 
by  the  Sacred  Writers,  to  account  even  for  the  wickedness 
of  the  old  world,  or  for  the  enormities  of  Sodom  and 
Gomorrah,  or  for  the  licentiousness  of  the  Heathen.  The 
fact  is,  direct  Temptation  is  very  properly  kept  out  of  the 
history  of  these  crimes,  that  the  human  heart  may  be 
chiefly  dreaded  as  the  source  of  the  licentious  vices,  and 
that  Satan's  perversions  of  true  Religion  might  be  more 
dreaded  than  his  personal  agency.  He  is  too  crafty  to 
have  a  direct  hand  in  sensuality.  He  knows  that  the  lusts 
of  the  flesh  will  follow  the  lusts  of  the  mind  like  their 
shadow,  certainly  and  inseparably,  and  in  a  degree  great 
enough  for  his  purpose :  and,  therefore,  he  puts  forth  his 
strength,  not  upon  individuals,  but  upon  public  opinion. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  159 

He  strikes  at  the  moral  restrairits,  which  Law  and  Gospel 
lay  upon  vice.  His  chief  aim  is  to  subvert  the  authority 
of  Law,  and  to  pervert  the  design  of  Grace  ;  well  knowing- 
that  a  false  religion  will  soon  be  a  foul  religion,  and  that 
one  vicious  maxim,  once  made  popular  in  a  nation,  will 
make  more  slaves  to  vice  in  a  month,  than  he  could  seduce 
in  a  year  by  tempting  them  one  by  one.  But  he  is  not 
thus,  the  less  concerned  in  the  evil.  It  is  Satan  that 
worketh  in  the  children  of  disobedience,  although  he  is 
not  often  personally  at  their  right  hand.  Accordingly, 
God  says,  that  whosoever  committeth  sin  is  of  the  devil ; 
and  that  all  who  do  not  work  righteousness  are  not  be- 
gotten of  God,  but  the  children  of  the  devil.  1  John  iii.  8. 
It  is  upon  this  principle  also,  that  Satan  is  called  the  god 
and  prince  of  this  world  ;  and  that  the  whole  unbelieving 
world  is  represented,  as  lying  in  the  Wicked  One. 

We  have  now  a  clue  to  the  process  of  Satan,  in  tempting 
the  fearers  of  God  to  despair,  and  blasphemy,  and  apostasy. 
This  is  Satan's  peculiar  and  favourite  work  in  the  Church. 
But,  just  as  in  the  world,  his  own  hand  is  not  always  at 
the  work,  however  much  his  eye  may  be  upon  it.  He 
works  by  the  power  of  false  maxims  in  the  production  of 
despair,  as  well  as  in  the  production  of  vice  and  crime. 
He  has  got  up,  and  set  on  foot  or  afloat  in  the  world,  dark 
and  dire  theories  of  Election  and  Reprobation,  which  he 
has  only  to  keep  up  as  theories,  in  order  to  distract  or 
distress  thousands,  without  much  interference  on  his  own 
part.  He  does,  however,  evidently  interfere  personally 
and  directly  with  individuals.  He  sought  to  have  Peter, 
that  he  might  sift  him  as  wheat.  He  entered  into  Judas, 
Ananias,  and  Sapphira.  And  Paul  evidently  believed, 
that  the  Corinthians  were  as  really  assailed  by  the  devil, 
as  Eve  was.  He  therefore  warned  them  as  much  against 
Satan  himself,  as  against  his  ministers.  2  Cor.  xi.  13. 
In  like  manner,  all  the  Apostles  warn  all  Christians 
against  the  personal  assaults  of  the  spiritual  Adversary. 


160  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Thus  both  direct  and  indirect  interferences  with  the 
mind  of  Christians,  are  expressly  charged  upon  Satan.  It 
is  not  revealed,  however,  when  the  direct  begins  to  act, 
nor  where  the  indirect  ends  its  influence.  And  it  is  well, 
yea  a  mercy,  that  we  do  not  know  exactly.  We  are  thus 
kept  equally  from  too  much  dread,  and  from  too  little  fear. 

There  are,  however,  cases  in  which  it  may  safely  and 
usefully  be  said,  as  in  the  case  of  sowing  Tares,  "  An 
Enemy  hath  done  this."  What  else  can  be  said,  when  the 
hody,  although  robust  and  in  the  vigour  of  manhood,  is 
paralyzed  and  prostrated  even  to  the  dust,  or  worn  to  a 
skeleton  suddenly,  by  the  haunting  fear  of  reprobation,  or 
the  wasting  suspicion  of  non-election,  preying  upon  the 
spirit?  These  fears  flash  across  many  minds,  and  often 
Jiame  for  a  short  time  :  but  a  few  sleepless  nights,  or 
doleful  days,  exhaust  their  power  to  distract  the  mind. 
It  was  not  so  with  Bunyan,  nor  Rogers.  Bruce  of 
Edinburgh  (an  eminent  Minister)  was  for  twenty  years 
shaken  with  terrors.  Rogers  was  for  two  years  in  equal 
pain  of  body  and  mind.  Happily  such  cases  are  as  rare  as 
they  are  peculiar  ;  but  they  are  very  like  the  personal 
work  of  Satan. 

In  like  manner,  when  blasphemies  which  are  abhorrent 
to  the  mind,  and  which  can  be  traced  to  no  blasphemous 
book  nor  bad  example,  are  yet  rushing  to  the  lips,  and 
raging  in  the  thoughts,  and  maddening  the  imagination, 
although  the  victim  of  them  would  give  worlds  to  be  rid 
of  them,  may  be  safely  ascribed  to  Satanic  suggestion. 
Christ  says,  indeed,  that  blasphemies  proceed  out  of  the 
heart :  but  he  does  not  say,  that  they  do  so  against  the 
will,  and  in  spite  of  the  prayer  and  effort,  of  the  heart  to 
suppress  and  forget  them.  In  such  a  case,  they  are  most 
likely  what  old  Isaac  Ambrose  calls  them,  "  rather 
fire-balls  thrown  into  the  house,  than  flames  from  its  own 
hearth."  Thus  it  is  the  Devil  himself  that  tempts  to 
devilish  sins. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  161 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


BUNYAN  S    CRISIS. 


No  one  ever  hit  off,  at  a  stroke,  the  pi-qfile  of  Bunyan*s 
mind  so  truly  as  he  himself  did  when  he  said,  "  I  being 
very  critical^  did  much  desire  to  be  resolved  about  (certain) 
questions  :  for  my  smart  had  made  me,  that  I  knew  not 
what  g-round  was  sure  enough  to  bear  me''  He  was  very 
critical !  We  see  at  a  glance  now,  that  had  he  suspected 
and  scrutinised  his  food,  or  watched  his  stomach  after 
every  meal,  as  he  did  the  bearings  and  the  effect  of  Divine 
Truth  upon  his  case  and  spirits,  he  would  have  eaten  in 
dread,  and  been  afraid  of  lying  down  to  sleep.  This 
criticising  temper  has  much  to  do  with  both  the  freaks  of 
his  imagination  and  the  frenzies  of  his  conscience.  It  will 
not  account,  however,  for  all  the  latter,  and  especially  not 
for  the  crisis  of  his  horrors,  which  we  have  now  to  review. 
It  happened  to  Bunyan,  as  to  Abraham,  that  "  a  horror 
of  great  darkness  fell  upon  him,"  just  after  he  had  seen  his 
"  Salvation  with  golden  seals  appendant."  The  Patriarch 
was  not  only  at  the  altar,  when  the  *'  thick  cloud "  came 
over  his  spirit ;  but  he  had  just  been  gazing  upon  the  stars 
of  heaven  as  the  seals  of  his  personal  acceptance  with  God, 
and  as  emblems  of  his  relative  usefulness  and  countless 
posterity.  Bunyan,  indeed,  had  had  no  vision  nor  revela- 
tion of  this  kind,  when  a  cloud  fell  upon  his  spirit :  but 
he  had  had  "joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory,"  from 
believing  and  loving  an  unseen  Saviour.  "  Now  I  found," 
he  said,  "  that  I  loved  Christ  dearly  !     O,  methought,  my 

Y 


162  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

soul  cleaved  unto  him — my  affections  cleaved  unto  him. 
I  felt  my  love  to  Him  as  liot  as  fire.  As  Job  said,  now  I 
thought  I  should  die  in  my  nest.  I^ut  quickly  after  this^ 
my  love  was  tried  to  purpose,  I  did  quickly  find  that  my 
great  love  was  but  too  little  ;  and  that  I  who  had,  as  I 
thought,  such  burning  love  to  Jesus  Christ,  could  let  him 
go  again  for  a  very  trifle.  For  after  the  Lord  had 
graciously  delivered  me  from  great  and  sore  temptation, 
and  had  settled  me  down  sweetly  in  the  faith  of  his  holy 
gospel,  and  had  given  me  such  strong  consolation  and 
evidence  from  heaven  touching  my  interest  in  his  love 
through  Christ, — the  Tempter  came  upon  me  again,  and 
that  with  a  more  grievous  and  dreadful  temptation  than 
before." 

This  Temptation  was, — "To  sell  and  part  with  this 
Most  Blessed  Christ,  for  the  things  of  this  life  ;  for  any 
thing."  It  lay  upon  him,  he  says,  for  the  space  of 
a  year^  and  followed  him  so  continually,  that  he  was 
not  rid  of  it  for  one  day  in  a  month,  nor  for  an  hour 
together  on  many  days,  except  when  he  was  asleep.  "  It 
intermixt  itself,"  says  Dr.  Southey,  "  with  whatever  he 
thought  or  did."  This  is  not  too  strongly  stated.  Bunyan 
himself  says,  "  I  could  neither  eat  my  food — stoop  for  a 
pin — chop  a  stick — or  cast  my  eye  to  look  on  this  or 
that,  but  still  the  temptation  would  come,  'sell  Christ  for 
this^  or  sell  Christ  for  that.  Sell  Him — sell  Him — sell 
Him  !'  It  would  run  in  my  thoughts  not  so  little  as  a 
hundred  \a\x\q^  together, — sell  Him,  sell  Him!" 

Dr.  Southey  calls  this,  both  "  an  almost  unimaginable 
temptation,"  and  *'  a  strange  and  hateful  suggestion." 
Conder  says,  *'  Bunyan  does  indeed  describe  the  horrible 
but  irrational  thought  that  was  ever  running  in  his  mind, 
as  a  temptation :  but  where,  he  asks,  is  the  bait  f  He 
answers  his  own  question  thus  ;  '*  Had  the  prospect  of 
worldly  advantage  been  held  out  to  Bunyan  on  the  condi- 
tion of  renouncing  his  creed,  or  violating  his  allegiance  to 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  163 

the  Saviour ;  had  he  in  the  face  of  worldly  scorn  or  fiery 
persecution  been  prompted  to  deny  the  faith ;  or  had  some 
dishonest  g-ain  been  within  his  reach  while  strugg-ling  with 
penury, — here  would  have  been  a  temptation.  But  in  the 
case  described,  the  assault — the  suggestion — the  seeming- 
compliance  with  abhorred  blasphemy,  were  all  ideal, 
without  motive,  and  contrary  to  reason.  The  suffering 
and  distress  only  were  real.  We  see  no  reason  then  to 
deny,  that  the  darkness  into  which  Bunyan  was  plunged, 
arose  from  that  distempered  action  of  the  imagination 
which  is  the  ordinary  effect  of  over- excitement." 

If  Mr.  Conder's  object  in  this  reasoning"  be,  to  exclude 
Satanic  temptation  from  this  crisis  of  Bunyan's  horrors,  I 
cannot  agree  with  him.  I  am  not  sure,  however,  that 
this  is  his  desig-n  :  and  as  I  am  quite  sure  that  he  would 
"  make  no  concession  to  the  Infidel,"  or  to  the  Neologian, 
on  the  subject,  I  feel  very  jealous  of  myself  lest  I  should 
mistake  his  meaning  at  all.  Besides,  there  is  great  weight 
as  well  as  point  in  his  question,  *'  Where  was  the  ha'it^'^ — 
if  this  was  a  temptation  ?  It  is  not  easy  to  answer  this 
question,  even  in  the  case  of  Bunyan  ;  and  it  would  be 
perhaps  impossible  to  answer  it  in  the  case  of  an  ordinary 
man,  who  was  haunted  with  a  similar  suggestion.  Bunyan, 
however,  was  not  an  ordinary  man.  He  was  extraordinary : 
and,  therefore,  some  of  his  temptations  were  likely  to  be  of 
an  extraordinary  kind.  It  will  not  do  in  his  case  to  say, 
that  "  where  there  is  no  appeal  to  rational  motives,  there 
can  be  no  temptation."  There  was  temptation,  as  we  have 
already  seen,  where  "  no  sin  would  serve,  but  that"  which 
was  unpardonable  ;  the  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost.  "  I 
was,"  he  says,  "  so  provoked  to  desire  to  sin  that  sin,  that 
I  was  as  if  I  could  not — must  not — should  not  be  quiet, 
until  I  had  committed  it."  This  was  temptation :  but 
where  is  the  appeal  to  rational  motives  ?  The  fact  is, 
irrational  motives,  if  they  had  a  strong  dash  of  the  dark 
or  the  daring  about  them,  were  the   most  tempting  things 


164 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


to  Bunyan^  in  certain  moods  of  his  wayward  mind.  To 
be  devil-like^  was  occasionally  as  accordant  with  his  worst 
moods,  as  to  be  angel-like,  or  god-like,  was  with  his  best. 
Satan  would  have  got  but  a  slight  and  short  hold  upon  the 
Leviathan  of  Bedford,  by  appealing  to  rational  motives,  or 
by  hailing  his  hooks  with  worldly  garbage.  "  All  the 
kingdoms  of  the  world,  and  the  glory  of  them,"  would  have 
been  no  temptation  to  Bunyan,  as  a  price  for  parting  with 
Christ :  but  a  trijie  could  be  so,  just  because  it  was  a  trifle. 
Its  absurdity  as  a  reason,  threw  him  upon  its  source  as  a 
temptation,  and  compelled  him  to  fear  that  Satan  felt  sure 
of  his  prey,  seeing  he  could  thus  play  with  it  by  mockery, 
as  well  as  scare  it  by  fiery  darts.  But  I  forbear  to  explain. 
His  record  will  speak  for  itself :  for  besides  having  no 
parallel  in  human  experience,  it  is  told  with  almost  super- 
human power. 

"  I  have  been  forced  to  stand  as  continually  leaning  and 
forcing  my  spirit  against  the  Temptation,  lest  haply,  before 
I  were  aware,  some  wicked  thought  might  arise  in  my  heart, 
that  might  consent  thereto ;  and  sometimes  the  tempter 
would  make  me  believe  I  had  consented  to  it ;  but  then  I 
should  be  as  tortured  upon  a  rack  for  whole  days  together. 

"  This  temptation  did  put  me  to  such  fears,  lest  I 
should,  at  some  times,  I  say,  consent  thereto,  and  be 
overcome  therewith,  that  by  the  very  force  of  my  mind,  in 
labouring  to  gainsay  and  resist  this  wickedness,  my  very 
body  would  be  put  into  action  or  motion,  by  way  of 
pushing  or  thrusting  with  my  hands  or  elbows ;  still 
answering,  as  fast  as  the  destroyer  said,  '  Sell  him  ;'  I  will 
not,  I  will  not,  I  will  not ;  no  not  for  thousands,  thousands, 
thousands  of  worlds ;  thus  reckoning,  lest  I  should,  in  the 
midst  of  these  assaults,  set  too  low  a  value  on  him  ; — even 
until  I  scarce  well  knew  where  I  was,  or  how  to  be  com- 
posed again. 

'*  At  these  seasons  he  would  not  let  me  eat  my  food  in 
quiet;   but,  forsooth,  when   I  was  set  at  the  table  at  my 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  165 

meat,  I  must  go  hence  to  pray  ;  I  must  leave  my  food 
now,  and  just  now ; — so  counterfeit  holy  also  would  this 
devil  be !  When  I  was  thus  tempted,  I  would  say  in 
myself,  *  Now  I  am  at  meat ;  let  me  make  an  end.'  *  No,' 
said  he,  '  you  must  do  it  now,  or  you  will  displease  God, 
and  despise  Christ.'  Wherefore  I  was  much  afflicted  with 
these  things  ;  and  if,  because  of  the  sinfulness  of  my  nature 
(imagining  that  these  were  impulses  from  God)  I  should 
deny  to  do  it,  (I  felt)  as  if  I  denied  God ;  and  then  should 
I  be  as  guilty,  because  I  did  not  obey  a  temptation  of  the 
devils  as  if  I  had  broken  the  law  of  God  indeed. 

"  But  to  be  brief:  One  morning  as  I  did  lie  in  my  bed, 
I  was,  as  at  other  times,  most  fiercely  assaulted  with  this 
temptation,  '  To  sell  and  part  with  Christ ;'  the  wicked 
suggestion  still  running  in  my  mind,  *  sell  him,  sell  him, 
sell  him,  sell  him,'  as  fast  as  a  man  could  speak :  against 
which  also,  in  my  mind,  as  at  other  times,  I  answered, 
'  No,  no,  not  for  thousands,  thousands,  thousands,'  at  least 
twenty  times  together  :  but  at  last,  after  much  striving, 
even  until  I  was  almost  out  of  breath,  I  felt  this  thought 
pass  through  my  heart,  '  Let  hira  go,  if  he  will ;' — and  I 
thought  also,  that  I  felt  my  heart  freely  consent  thereto. 
Oh  !  the  diligence  of  Satan  !  Oh  !  the  desperateness  of 
man's  heart ! 

'*  Now  was  the  battle  won,  and  down  fell  I,  as  a  bird 
that  is  shot  from  the  top  of  a  tree,  into  great  guilt,  and 
fearful  despair.  Thus  getting  out  of  my  bed,  I  went 
moping  into  the  field  ;  but  God  knows,  with  as  heavy  a 
heart  as  mortal  man,  I  think,  could  bear ;  where  for  the 
space  of  two  hours,  I  was  like  a  man  bereft  of  life :  and, 
as  now,  past  all  recovery  and  bound  over  to  eternal 
punishment. 

"  And  withal,  that  scripture  did  seize  upon  my  soul : 
*  Or  profane  person,  as  Esau,  who  for  one  morsel  of  meat, 
sold  his  birthright :  for  ye  know,  how  that  afterwards 
when    he    would    have    inherited    the    blessing,    he    was 


166  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

rejected,  for  he  found  no  place  of  repentance,  though  he 
sought  it  carefully  with  tears/     Heh.  xii.  16. 

"  Now  was  I  as  one  bound  ;  I  felt  myself  shut  up  unto 
the  judgment  to  come  ;  nothing  now,  for  two  years  together, 
would  abide  with  me,  but  damnation,  and  an  expectation 
of  damnation :  I  say,  nothing  now  would  abide  with  me 
but  this,  save  some  few  moments  for  relief,  as  in  the 
sequel  you  will  see. 

"  These  words  were  to  my  soul,  like  fetters  of  brass  to 
my  legs,  in  the  continual  sound  of  which  I  went  for  several 
months  together.  But  about  ten  or  eleven  o'clock  on  that 
day,  as  I  was  walking  under  a  hedge  (full  of  sorrow  and 
guilt,  God  knows)  and  bemoaning  myself  for  this  hard 
hap,  that  such  a  thought  should  arise  within  me,  suddenly 
this  sentence  rushed  in  upon  me,  *  The  blood  of  Christ 
remits  all  guilt.*  At  this  I  made  a  stand  in  my  spirit : 
with  that,  this  word  took  hold  upon  me,  '  The  blood  of 
Jesus  Christ  his  Son,  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin.'  1  John  i.  7. 

"  Now  I  began  to  conceive  peace  in  my  soul,  and 
methought  I  saw,  as  if  the  Tempter  did  leer  and  steal  away 
from  me,  as  being  ashamed  of  what  he  had  done.  At  the 
same  time  also  I  had  my  sin,  and  the  blood  of  Christ, 
thus  represented  to  me, — That  my  sin,  when  compared  to 
the  blood  of  Christ,  was  no  more  to  it,  than  this  little  clod 
or  stone  before  me,  is  to  this  vast  and  wide  field  that  here 
I  see.  This  gave  me  good  encouragement  for  the  space 
of  two  or  three  hours ;  in  which  time  also,  methought,  I 
saw,  by  faith,  the  Son  of  God,  as  suffering  for  my  sins  : 
but  because  it  tarried  not,  I  therefore  sunk  in  my  spirit, 
under  exceeding  guilt  again. 

"  But  chiefly  by  the  afore-mentioned  scripture  con- 
cerning Esau  selling  of  his  birthright ;  for  that  scripture 
would  lie  all  day  long  in  mind,  and  hold  me  down,  so  that 
I  could  by  no  means  lift  up  myself;  for  when  I  would 
strive  to  turn  to  this  scripture  or  that,  for  relief,  still  that 
sentence  would  be  sounding  in  me;   *  For  ye  know,  how 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  167 

that  afterwards,  when  he  would  have  inherited  the  blessing, 
he  found  no  place  of  repentance,  though  he  sought  it 
carefully  with  tears.' 

"  Sometimes,  indeed,  I  should  have  a  touch  from  that 
scripture,  '  I  have  prayed  for  thee,  that  thy  faith  fail  not ;' 
but  it  would  not  abide  upon  me  ;  neither  could  I,  indeed, 
when  I  considered  my  state,  find  ground  to  conceive  in 
the  least,  that  there  should  be  the  root  of  that  grace  in  me, 
having  sinned  as  I  had  done.  Now  was  I  tore  and  rent  in 
heavy  case,  for  many  days  together. 

*'  Then  began  I  with  sad  and  careful  heart  to  consider 
of  the  nature  and  largeness  of  my  sin,  and  to  search  into 
the  word  of  God,  if  I  could  in  any  place  espy  a  word  of 
promise,  or  any  encouraging  sentence,  by  which  I  might 
take  relief.  Wherefore  I  began  to  consider  that  scripture, 
'  All  sins  shall  be  forgiven  unto  the  sons  of  men,  and 
blasphemies  wherewithsoever  they  shall  blaspheme.'  Which 
place,  methought,  at  a  blush,  did  contain  a  large  and 
glorious  promise  for  the  pardon  of  high  offences ;  but 
considering  the  place  more  fully,  I  thouglit  it  was  rather 
to  be  understood,  as  relating  more  chiefly  to  those  who 
had,  while  in  a  natural  estate,  committed  such  things 
as  there  are  mentioned ;  but  not  to  me,  who  had  not 
only  received  light  and  mercy,  but  that  had,  both  after, 
and  also  contrary  to  that,  so  slighted  Christ,  as  I  had 
done. 

*'  I  feared,  therefore,  that  this  wicked  sin  of  mine  might 
be  that  sin  unpardonable,  of  which  He  there  thus  speaketh; 
'  But  he  that  shall  blaspheme  against  the  Holy  Ghost,  hath 
never  forgiveness,  but  is  in  danger  of  eternal  damnation.' 
And  I  did  the  rather  give  credit  to  this,  because  of  that 
sentence  in  the  Hebrews :  '  For  you  know  how  that 
afterwards,  when  he  would  have  inherited  the  blessing,  he 
was  rejected ;  for  he  found  no  place  of  repentance,  though 
he  sought  it  carefully  with  tears.'  And  this  stuck  always 
with  me. 


168 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


"  And  now  was  I  both  a  burthen  and  a  terror  to  myself; 
nor  did  I  ever  so  know,  as  now,  what  it  was  to  be  weary 
of  my  life,  and  yet  afraid  to  die.  Oh !  how  gladly  now 
would  I  have  been  any  body  but  myself! — any  thing  but  a 
man, — and  in  any  condition  but  my  own !  For  there  was 
nothing  did  pass  more  frequently  over  my  mind,  than  that 
it  was  impossible  for  me  to  be  forgiven  my  transgression, 
and  to  be  saved  from  the  wrath  to  come. 

"  And  now  I  began  to  labour  to  call  again  time  that 
was  spent ;  wishing  a  thousand  times  twice  told,  that  the 
day  was  yet  to  come,  when  I  should  be  tempted  to  such  a 
sin :  concluding  with  great  indignation,  both  against  my 
heart,  and  all  assaults,  how  I  would  rather  have  been  torn 
in  pieces,  than  be  found  a  consenter  thereto.  But  alas  ! 
these  thoughts,  and  wishings,  and  resolvings,  were  now  too 
late  to  help  me ;  this  thought  had  passed  my  heart ;  God 
hath  let  me  go,  and  I  am  fallen.  '  Oh  !*  thought  I,  '  that 
it  was  with  me  as  in  months  past,  as  in  the  days  when  God 
preserved  me.* 

'*  Then  again,  being  loath  and  unwilling  to  perish,  I  began 
to  compare  my  sin  with  others,  to  see  if  I  could  find  that 
any  of  those  that  were  saved,  had  done  as  I  had  done.  So  I 
considered  David's  adultery  and  murder,  and  found  them 
most  heinous  crimes,  and  those  too  committed  after  light 
and  grace  received  :  but  yet  by  considering  that  his  trans- 
gressions were  only  such  as  were  against  the  law  of  Moses, 
from  which  the  Lord  Christ  could,  with  the  consent  of  his 
word,  deliver  him.  But  mine  was  against  the  gospel ; 
yea,  against  the  Mediator.      I  had  sold  my  Saviour  ! 

"  Now  again  should  I  be  as  if  racked  upon  the  wheel, 
when  I  considered,  that,  besides  the  guilt  that  possessed 
me,  I  should  be  so  void  of  grace,  so  bewitched !  What, 
thought  I,  must  it  be  no  sin  but  this  ?  Must  it  needs  be 
the  great  transgr-ession  ?  Must  that  wicked  one  touch 
my  soul  ?  Oh  !  what  sting  did  I  find  in  all  these 
sentences ! 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  169 

"  What,  thought  I,  is  there  but  one  sin  that  is  unpardon- 
able ?  But  one  sin  that  layeth  the  soul  without  the  reach 
of  God's  mercy ;  and  must  I  be  guilty  of  that  ?  must  it 
needs  be  that  ?  Is  there  but  one  sin  among  so  many 
millions  of  sins,  for  which  there  is  no  forgiveness  ;  and 
must  I  commit  this  ?  Oh  !  unhappy  sin  !  Oh  !  unhappy 
man !  These  things  would  so  break  and  confound  my 
spirit,  that  I  could  not  tell  what  to  do  ;  I  thought  at  times, 
they  would  have  broke  my  spirits  ;  and  still,  to  aggravate 
my  misery,  that  would  run  in  my  mind, — '  You  know  how, 
that  afterwards  when  he  would  have  inherited  the  blessing, 
he  was  rejected.'  Oh  !  no  one  knows  the  terrors  of  those 
days  but  myself. 

*'  After  this  I  began  to  consider  of  Peter's  sin,  which  he 
committed  in  denying  his  Master  :  and  indeed,  this  came 
nighest  to  mine  of  any  that  I  could  find,  for  he  had  denied 
his  Saviour,  as  I  after  light  and  mercy  received ;  yea,  and 
that  too  after  warning  given  him.  I  also  considered,  that 
he  did  it  once  and  twice ;  and  that,  after  time  to  con- 
sider betwixt.  But  though  I  put  all  these  circumstances 
together,  that,  if  possible  I  might  find  help,  yet  I  con- 
sidered again,  that  his  was  but  a  denial  of  his  Master,  but 
mine  was  a  selling  of  my  Saviour.  Wherefore  I  thought 
with  myself,  that  I  came  nearer  to  Judas,  than  either  to 
David  or  Peter. 

"  Here  again  my  torment  would  flame  out  and  afflict 
me ;  yea,  it  would  grind  me,  as  it  were  to  powder,  to 
consider  the  preservation  of  God  towards  others,  while  I 
fell  into  the  snare  :  for  in  my  thus  considering  of  other 
men's  sins,  and  comparing  of  them  with  mine  own,  I  could 
evidently  see,  that  God  preserved  them,  notwithstanding 
their  wickedness,  and  would  not  let  them,  as  he  had  let 
me,  become  a  son  of  perdition. 

*'  But  oh !  how  did  my  soul  at  this  time  prize  the 
preservation  that  God  did  set  about  his  people  !  Ah, 
how  safely  did   I  see  them  walk,  whom  God  had  hedged 


170  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

in !  They  were  within  his  care,  protection,  and  special 
providence.  Though  they  were  full  as  bad  as  I  by  nature  j 
yet  because  He  loved  them,  he  would  not  suffer  them  to 
fall  without  the  range  of  mercy :  but  as  for  me,  I  was 
gone  : — I  had  done  it : — he  would  not  preserve  me,  nor 
keep  me ;  but  suffered  me,  because  I  was  a  reprobate,  to 
fall  as  I  had  done.  Now  did  those  blessed  places  that 
speak  of  God's  keeping  his  people,  shine  like  the  sun 
before  me,  though  not  to  comfort  me,  yet  to  show  me 
the  blessed  state  and  heritage  of  those  whom  the  Lord  had 
blessed. 

"  Now  I  saw,  that  as  God  had  his  hand  in  all  the 
providences  and  dispensations  that  overtook  his  elect ;  so 
he  had  his  hand  in  all  the  temptations  that  they  had  to  sin 
against  him ;  not  to  animate  them  to  wickedness,  but  to 
choose  their  temptations  and  troubles  for  them ;  and  also 
to  leave  them  for  a  time,  to  such  things  only  that  might 
not  destroy,  but  humble  them  ;  as  might  not  put  them 
beyond,  but  lay  them  in  the  way  of  the  renewing  his 
mercy.  But  oh !  what  love,  what  care,  what  kindness  and 
mercy  did  I  now  see,  mixing  itself  with  the  most  severe 
and  dreadful  of  all  God's  ways  to  his  people !  He  would 
let  David,  Hezekiah,  Solomon,  Peter,  and  others  fall,  but 
he  would  not  let  them  fall  into  the  sin  unpardonable,  nor 
into  hell  for  sin.  O !  thought  I,  these  be  the  men  that 
God  hath  loved ;  these  be  the  men  that  God,  though  he 
chastiseth  them,  keeps  them  in  safety  by  him  ;  and  them 
whom  he  makes  to  abide  under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty. 
But  all  these  thoughts  added  sorrow,  grief,  and  horror  to 
me ;  as  whatever  I  now  thought  on,  it  was  killing  to  me. 
If  I  thought  how  God  kept  his  own,  that  was  Mllhig  to 
me ;  if  I  thought  how  I  was  fallen  myself,  that  was  killing 
to  me.  As  all  things  wrought  together  for  the  best,  and 
to  do  good  to  them  that  were  the  called,  according  to  his 
purpose,  so  I  thought  that  all  things  wrought  for  damage, 
and  for  my  eternal  overthrow. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  171 

"  Then  again  I  began  to  compare  my  sin  with  the  sin  of 
Judas,  that,  if  possible,  I  might  find  if  mine  differed  from 
that,  which  in  truth  is  unpardonable  :  and  oh !  thought  I, 
if  it  should  differ  from  it,  though  but  the  breadth  of  a  hair, 
what  a  happy  condition  is  my  soul  in !  And  by  considering, 
I  found  that  Judas  did  this  intentionally,  but  mine  was 
against  prayer  and  strivings  :  besides,  his  was  committed 
with  much  deliberation,  but  mine  in  a  fearful  hurry,  on  a 
sudden.  All  this  while  I  was  tossed  to  and  fro  like  the 
locustf  and  driven  from  trouble  to  sorrow ;  hearing  always 
the  sound  of  Esau's  fall  in  mine  ears,  and  the  dreadful 
consequences  thereof. 

"  Yet  this  consideration  about  Judas 's  sin  was,  for 
awhile,  some  little  relief  to  me ;  for  I  saw  I  had  not,  as  to 
the  circumstances,  transgressed  so  fully  as  he.  But  this 
was  quickly  gone  again ;  for  I  thought  with  myself,  there 
might  be  more  ways  than  one  to  commit  this  unpardon- 
able sin  :  also  I  thought  there  might  be  degrees  of  that,  as 
well  as  of  other  transgressions  ;  wherefore,  for  aught  I  yet 
could  perceive,  this  iniquity  of  mine  might  be  such,  as 
might  never  be  passed  by, 

"  I  was  often  now  ashamed  that  I  should  be  like  such  an 
ttgly  man  as  Judas  :  I  thought  also  how  loathsome  I  should 
be  unto  all  the  saints  in  the  day  of  judgment :  insomuch 
that  now  I  could  scarce  see  a  good  man,  that  I  believed 
had  a  good  conscience,  but  I  should  feel  my  heart  tremble 
at  him,  while  I  was  in  his  presence.  Oh  !  now  I  saw  a 
glory  in  walking  with  God,  and  what  a  mercy  it  was  to 
have  a  good  conscience  before  him. 

"  I  was  much  about  that  time  tempted  to  content  myself 
by  receiving  some  false  opinions  ;  as,  that  there  should  be 
no  such  thing  as  a  day  of  judgment ;  that  we  should  not 
rise  again  ;  and  that  sin  was  no  such  grievous  thing  '■  the 
tempter  suggesting  thus  ;  *  For  if  these  things  should 
indeed  be  true,  yet  to  believe  otherwise  would  yield  you 
ease  for  the  present.     If  you  must  perish,  never  torment 


172  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

yourself  so  much  beforehand  :  drive  the  thoug-hts  of 
damning  out  of  your  mind,  by  possessing  your  mind  with 
some  such  conclusions  that  Atheists  and  Ranters  use  to 
help  themselves  withal/ 

"  But  oh !  when  such  thoughts  have  passed  through  my 
heart,  how,  as  it  were,  within  a  step,  have  death  and  judg- 
ment been  in  my  view !  Methought  the  judge  stood  at 
the  door  ;  I  was  as  if  it  was  come  already  ;  so  that  such 
things  could  have  no  entertainment.  But  methinks,  I  see 
by  this,  that  Satan  will  use  any  means  to  keep  the  soul 
from  Christ ;  he  loveth  not  an  awakened  frame  of  spirit ; 
security,  blindness,  darkness,  and  error,  is  the  very  king- 
dom and  habitation  of  the  wicked  one. 

"  I  found  it  a  hard  work  now  to  pray  to  God,  because 
despair  was  swallowing  me  up  ;  I  thought  I  was  as  with  a 
tempest^  driven  away  from  God ;  for  always  when  I  cried 
to  God  for  mercy,  this  would  come  in,  *'Tis  too  late,  I  am 
lost,  God  hath  let  me  fall  ;  not  to  my  correction,  but 
my  condemnation  :  my  sin  is  unpardonable ;  and  I  know, 
concerning  Esau,  how  that  after  he  had  sold  his  birth- 
right, he  would  have  inherited  the  blessing,  but  was 
rejected.'  About  this  time  I  did  light  on  that  dreadful 
story  of  that  miserable  mortal  Francis  Spira  ;  a  book  that 
was  to  my  troubled  spirit,  as  salty  when  rubbed  into  ?i  fresh 
wound :  every  sentence  in  that  book,  every  groan  of  that 
man,  with  all  the  fest  of  his  actions  in  his  dolours,  as  his 
tears,  his  prayers,  his  gnashing  of  teeth,  his  wringing  of 
hands,  his  twisting,  and  languishing,  and  pining  away 
under  that  mighty  hand  of  God  that  was  upon  him, 
were  as  knives  and  daggers  in  my  soul ;  especially  that 
sentence  of  his  was  frightful  to  me,  '  Man  knows  the 
beginning  of  sin,  but  who  bounds  the  issues  thereof?' 
Then  would  the  former  sentence,  as  the  conclusion  of 
all,  fall  like  an  Jwt  thunderbolt  again  upon  my  con- 
science :  '  For  you  know  how  that  afterwards,  when  he 
would  have  inherited  the  blessing,   he  was  rejected ;  for 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  173 

he  found  no  place  of  repentance,  though  he  sought  it 
carefully  with  tears.' 

*'  Then  should  I  be  struck  into  a  very  great  trembling, 
insomuch  that  at  some  times  I  could,  for  whole  days 
together,  feel  my  very  body,  as  well  as  my  mind,  to  shake 
and  totter  under  the  sense  of  this  dreadful  judgment  of 
God,  that  would  fall  on  those  that  have  sinned  that  most 
fearful  and  unpardonable  sin.  I  felt  also  such  a  clogging 
and  heat  at  my  stomachy  by  reason  of  this  my  terror,  that 
I  was,  especially  at  some  times,  as  if  my  breast-bone  would 
sj)lit  asunder :  then  I  thought  concerning  that  of  Judas, 
*  who  by  his  falling  headlong  burst  asunder,  and  all  his 
bowels  gushed  out.' 

*'  I  feared  also  that  this  was  the  mark  that  God  did  set 
on  Cain,  even  continual  fear  and  trembling,  under  the 
heavy  load  of  guilt  that  he  had  charged  on  him  for  the 
blood  of  his  brother  Abel.  Thus  did  I  wind,  and  twine, 
and  shrink  under  the  burthen  that  was  upon  me ;  which 
burthen  also  did  so  oppress  me,  that  I  could  neither  stand 
nor  go,  nor  lie  either  at  rest  or  quiet. 

"  Yet  that  saying  would  sometimes  come  into  my  mind, 
'  he  hath  received  gifts  for  the  rebellious ;'  the  rebellious, 
thought  I ! — why  surely  they  are  such  as  once  were  under 
subjection  to  their  prince  ;  even  those  who  after  they  have 
once  sworn  subjection  to  his  government,  have  taken  up 
arms  against  him  ;  and  this,  thought  I,  is  my  very  con- 
dition :  I  once  loved  him,  feared  him,  served  him  ;  but 
now  I  am  a  rebel ;  I  have  sold  him,  I  have  said,  let  him 
go  if  he  will ;  but  yet  he  has  gifts  for  rebels ;  and  then 
why  not  for  me  ? 

"  This  sometimes  I  thought  on,  and  would  labour  to 
take  hold  thereof,  that  some,  though  small  refreshment, 
might  have  been  conceived  by  me.  But  in  this  also  I 
missed  of  my  desire,  I  was  driven  with  force  beyond  it :  I 
was  like  a  man  going  to  execution,  even  b?/  that  place  where 
he  would  fain  creep  in  and  hide  himself,  but  may  not. 


174  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

"  Again,  after  I  had  thus  considered  the  sins  of  the 
saints  in  particular,  and  found  mine  went  beyond  them, 
then  I  began  to  think  with  myself,  Suppose  I  should  put 
all  theirs  together,  and  mine  alone  against  them,  might  I 
not  then  find  encouragement  ? — for  if  mine  though  bigger 
than  any  one,  yet  should  be  hut  equal  to  all,  then  there  is 
hope ;  for  that  blood  that  hath  virtue  enough  in  it  to  wash 
away  all  theirs,  hath  virtue  enough  in  it  to  wash  away 
mine,  though  this  one  be  full  as  big,  if  not  bigger  than  all 
theirs.  Here  again,  I  would  consider  the  sin  of  David, 
of  Solomon,  of  Manasseh,  of  Peter,  and  the  rest  of  the 
great  offenders ;  and  would  also  labour,  when  I  might  with 
fairness,  to  aggravate  and  heighten  their  sins  hy  several 
circumstances. 

"  I  would  think  with  myself  that  David  shed  blood  to 
cover  his  adultery,  and  that  by  the  sword  of  the  children 
of  Ammon ;  a  work  that  could  not  be  done,  but  by  con- 
trivance, which  was  a  great  aggravation  to  his  sin.  But 
then  this  would  turn  upon  me  :  *  Ah !  but  these  were  but 
sins  against  the  law,  from  which  there  was  a  Jesus  sent  to 
save  them ;  but  yours  is  a  sin  against  the  Saviour,  and  wlio 
shall  save  you  from  that  ?' 

*'  Then  I  thought  on  Solomon,  and  how  he  sinned  in 
loving  strange  women,  in  falling  away  to  their  idols,  in 
building  them  temples,  in  doing  this  after  light,  in  his  old 
age,  after  great  mercy  received  :  but  the  same  conclusion 
that  cut  me  off  in  the  former  consideration,  cut  me  off  as 
to  this ;  namely,  that  all  those  were  but  sins  against  the 
law,  for  which  God  had  provided  a  remedy  ;  but  I  had  sold 
my  Saviour,  and  there  remained  no  more  sacrifice  for  sin. 

'*  I  would  then  add  to  these  men*s  sins,  the  sins  of 
Manasseh  ;  how  that  he  built  altars  for  idols  in  the  house 
of  the  Lord ;  he  also  observed  times,  used  enchantments, 
had  to  do  with  wizards,  was  a  wizard,  had  his  familiar 
spirits,  burned  his  children  in  the  fire  in  sacrifice  to  devils, 
and  made  the  streets   of  Jerusalem   run  down   with   the 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  175 

blood  of  innocents.  These,  thought  I,  are  great  sins,  sins 
of  a  bloody  colour  ;  but  yet  it  would  turn  again  upon  me, 
*  they  are  none  of  them  of  the  nature  of  yours  j  you  have 
parted  with  Jesus,  you  have  sold  your  Saviour.' 

"  This  one  consideration  would  always  kill  my  heart, 
my  sin  was  point-blank  against  my  Saviour ;  and  that  too, 
at  that  height,  that  I  had  in  my  heart  said  of  him,  '  let 
him  go  if  he  will.'  Oh  !  methought  this  sin  was  bigger 
than  the  sins  of  a  country,  of  a  kingdom,  or  of  the  whole 
world  ;  no  one,  pardonable  ;  nor  all  of  them  together,  was 
able  to  equal  mine  ;  mine  out-went  them  every  one. 

"  Now  I  should  find  in  my  mind  to  flee  from  God,  as 
from  the  face  of  a  dreadful  Judge,  yet  this  was  my  torment, 
I  could  not  escape  his  hand :  '  It  is  a  fearful  thing  to  fall 
into  the  hands  of  the  living  God.'  But,  blessed  be  his 
grace,  that  scripture,  in  these  flying  flts,  would  call,  as 
running  after  me,  '  I  have  blotted  out,  as  a  thick  cloud, 
thy  transgressions ;  and  as  a  cloud,  thy  sins ;  return  unto 
me,  for  I  have  redeemed  thee.'  This,  I  say,  would  come 
in  upon  my  mind,  when  I  was  fleeing  from  the  face  of 
God ;  for  I  did  flee  from  his  face  ;  that  is,  my  mind  and 
spirit  fled  before  him  ;  by  reason  of  His  highness,  I  could 
not  endure  :  then  would  the  text  cry,  *  Return  unto  me  ;' 
it  would  cry  aloud  with  a  very  great  voice,  *  Return  unto 
me,  for  I  have  redeemed  thee.'  Indeed,  this  would  make 
me  to  make  a  little  stop,  and  as  it  were,  look  over  my 
shoulder  behind  me,  to  see  if  I  could  discern  that  the  God 
of  grace  did  follow  me  with  a  pardon  in  his  hand  ;  but  I 
could  no  sooner  do  that,  but  all  would  be  clouded  and 
darkened  again  by  that  sentence,  '  For  you  know,  how  that 
afterwards,  when  he  would  have  inherited  the  blessing,  he 
found  no  place  of  repentance,  though  he  sought  it  carefully 
with  tears.'  Wherefore  I  could  not  refrain,  but  fled, 
though  at  some  times  it  cried,  *  Return,  return,'  as  if  it  did 
halloo  after  me  :  but  I  feared  to  close  in  therewith,  lest  it 
should  not  come  from  God  j  for  that  other,  as  I  said,  was 


176 


LIFE    OF    liUNYAN. 


still  sounding  in  my  conscience,  '  For  you  know,  that  after- 
wards, when  he  would  have  inherited  the  blessing,  he  was 
rejected,'  &c. 

"  Once  as  I  was  walking  to  and  fro  in  a  good  man's 
shop,  bemoaning  of  myself  in  my  sad  and  doleful  state, 
afflicting  myself  with  self-abhorrence  for  this  wicked  and 
ungodly  thought ;  lamenting  also  this  hard  hap  of  mine 
for  that  I  should  commit  so  great  a  sin,  greatly  fearing 
that  I  should  not  be  pardoned  ;  praying  also  in  my  heart, 
that  if  this  sin  of  mine  did  differ  from  that  against  the 
Holy  Ghost,  the  Lord  would  show  it  me.  And  being  now 
ready  to  sink  with  fear,  suddenly  there  was,  as  if  there  had 
rushed  in  at  the  window,  the  noise  of  wind  upon  me,  but 
very  pleasant,  and  as  if  I  heard  a  voice  speaking,  '  didst 
thou  ever  refuse  to  be  justified  by  the  blood  of  Christ?'  And 
withal,  my  whole  life  of  profession  past,  was  in  a  moment 
opened  to  me,  wherein  I  was  made  to  see,  that  designedly 
I  had  not :  so  my  heart  answered  groaningly.  No  !  Then 
fell,  with  power,  that  word  of  God  upon  me,  '  See  that  ye 
refuse  not  him  that  speaketh.'  This  made  a  strange  seizure 
upon  my  spirit ;  it  brought  light  with  it,  and  commanded  a 
silence  in  my  heart,  of  all  those  tumultuous  thoughts,  that 
did  before  use,  like  masterless  hell-hounds,  to  roar  and 
bellow,  and  make  an  hideous  noise  within  me.  It  showed 
me  also  that  Jesus  Christ  had  yet  a  word  of  grace  and 
mercy  for  me ;  that  he  had  not,  as  I  had  feared,  quite 
forsaken  and  cast  off  my  soul ;  yea,  this  was  a  kind  of  check 
for  my  proneness  to  desperation;  a  kind  of  threatening  of 
me,  if  I  did  not,  notwithstanding  my  sins,  and  the  heinous- 
ness  of  them,  venture  my  salvation  upon  the  Son  of  God. 
But  as  to  my  determining  about  this  strange  dispensation, 
what  it  was,  I  know  not ;  or  from  whence  it  came,  I  know 
not ;  I  have  not  yet  in  twenty  years'  time  been  able  to  make 
a  judgment  of  it.  I  thought  then  what  here  I  should  be 
loath  to  speak.  But  verily  that  sudden  rushing  wind  was, 
as  if  an  angel  had  come  upon  me ;   but  both  it,  and  the 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  177 

salvation,  I  will  leave  until  the  day  of  judg'ment :  only  this 
I  say,  it  commanded  a  great  calm  in  my  soul  ;  it  persuaded 
me  there  might  be  hope :  it  showed  me,  as  I  thought,  what 
the  sin  unpardonable  was,  and  that  my  soul  had  yet  the 
blessed  privilege  to  flee  to  Jesus  Christ  for  mercy.  But  I 
say,  concerning  this  dispensation  ;  I  know  not  yet  what  to 
say  unto  it :  which  was  also,  in  truth,  the  cause,  that  at 
I  first  I  did  not  speak  of  it  in  the  book ;  I  do  now  also  leave 
I  it  to  be  thought  on  by  men  of  sound  judgment.  I  lay  not 
the  stress  of  my  salvation  thereupon,  but  upon  the  Lord 
Jesus,  in  the  promise  ;  yet  seeing  I  am  here  unfolding  of 
my  secret  things,  I  thought  it  might  not  be  altogether 
inexpedient  to  let  this  also  shew  itself,  though  I  cannot 
now  relate  the  matter  as  there  I  did  experience  it.  This 
lasted  in  the  savour  of  it  for  about  three  or  four  days,  and 
then  I  began  to  mistrust,  and  to  despair  again. 

"  Wherefore  still  my  life  hung  in  doubt  before  me,  not 
knowing  which  way  I  should  tip ;  only  this  I  found  my 
soul  desire,  even  to  cast  itself  at  the  foot  of  grace,  by 
prayer  and  supplication.  But  oh  !  'twas  hard  for  me  now, 
to  have  the  face  to  pray  to  this  Christ  for  mercy,  against 
whom  I  had  thus  vilely  sinned  ;  *twas  hard  work,  I  say,  to 
offer  to  look  him  in  the  face,  against  whom  I  had  so  vilely 
sinned  ;  and  indeed  I  have  found  it  as  difficult  to  come  to 
God  by  prayer,  after  backsliding  from  him,  as  to  any  other 
thing.  Oh  !  the  shame  that  did  now  attend  me  !  especially 
when  I  thought  I  am  now  a  going  to  pray  to  Him  for  mercy, 
that  I  had  so  lightly  esteemed  but  awhile  before !  I  was 
ashamed ;  yea,  even  confounded,  because  this  villany  had 
been  committed  by  me.  But  I  saw  that  there  was  but  one 
way  with  me  ;  I  must  go  to  him,  and  humble  myself  unto 
him,  and  beg  that  he,  of  his  wonderful  mercy,  would  shew 
pity  to  me,  and  have  mercy  upon  my  wretched  sinful  soul. 
"  Which,  when  the  tempter  perceived,  he  strongly 
suggested  to  me,  '  that  I  ought  not  to  pray  to  God,  for 
prayer  was  not  for  any  in  my  case  ;  neither  could  it  do 

A  A 


178  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

me  good,  because  I  had  rejected  the  Mediator,  by  whom 
all  prayers  came  with  acceptance  to  God  the  Father ;  and 
without  whom  no  prayer  could  come  into  his  presence  ; 
wherefore  now  to  pray,  is  but  to  add  sin  to  sin ;  yea,  now 
to  pray,  seeing  God  has  cast  you  off,  is  the  next  way  to 
anger  and  offend  him  more  than  you  ever  did  before. 

" '  For  God,'  saitli  he,  '  hath  been  weary  of  you  for 
these  several  years  already,  because  you  are  none  of  his ; 
your  bawling  in  his  ears,  hath  been  no  pleasant  voice  to 
him  ;  and  therefore  he  let  you  sin  this  sin,  that  you  might 
be  quite  cut  off ; — and  will  you  pray  still  ?'  This  the 
devil  urged,  and  set  forth  that  in  Numbers,  when  Moses 
said  to  the  children  of  Israel,  That  because  they  would  not 
go  up  to  possess  the  land,  when  God  would  have  them, 
therefore  for  ever  he  did  bar  them  out  from  thence,  though 
they  prayed  they  might  with  tears. 

"  As  it  is  said  in  another  place,  '  The  man  that  sins 
presumptuously,  shall  be  taken  from  God's  altar,  that  he 
may  die  j'  even  as  Joab  was  by  King  Solomon,  when  he 
thought  to  find  shelter  there.  These  places  did  pinch  me 
very  sore  ;  yet  my  case  being  desperate,  I  thought  with 
myself,  I  can  but  die ;  and  if  it  must  be  so,  it  shall  once  be 
said,  *  That  such  an  one  died  at  the  foot  of  Christ  in 
prayer.^  This  I  did,  but  with  great  difficulty,  God  doth 
know;  and  that  because,  together  with  this,  still  that 
saying  about  Esau,  would  be  set  at  my  heart,  even  like  a 
flaming  sword,  to  keep  the  way  of  the  tree  of  life,  lest  I 
should  take  thereof  and  live.  Oh !  who  knows  how  hard 
a  thing  I  found  it,  to  come  to  God  in  prayer ! 

*'  I  did  also  desire  the  prayers  of  the  people  of  God  for 
me,  but  I  feared  that  God  would  give  them  no  heart  to  do 
it ;  yea,  I  trembled  in  my  soul  to  think,  that  some  or  other 
of  them  would  shortly  tell  me,  that  God  hath  said  those 
words  to  them,  that  he  once  did  say  to  the  prophet,  con- 
cerning the  children  of  Israel,  *  Pray  not  for  this  people, 
for  I  have  rejected  them.'     So,  *  Pray  not  for  him,  for  I 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  179 

have  rejected  him,'  Yea,  I  thought  that  he  had  whispered 
this  to  some  of  them  ah-eady,  only  they  durst  not  tell  me 
so ;  neither  durst  I  ask  them  of  it,  for  fear  if  it  should  be 
so,  it  would  make  me  quite  beside  myself :  *  Man  knows 
the  beginning  of  sin,'  said  Spira,  '  but  who  bounds  the 
issues  thereof?' 

"  Now  also  did  the  tempter  begin  to  mock  me  in  my 

misery,  saying,  '  That  seeing  I  had  thus  parted  with  the 

Lord  Jesus,  and  provoked  him  to  displeasure,  who  would 

have  stood  between  my  soul  and  the  flame  of  devouring  fire, 

there  was  now  hut  one  way,  and  that  was, — to  pray  that  God 

the  Father  would  be  a  Mediator  betwixt  his  Son  and  me ; 

that  we  might  be  reconciled  again,  and  that  I  might  have 

that  blessed  benefit  in  him,  that  his  blessed  saints  enjoyed. 

"  Then  did  that  scripture  seize  upon  my  soul,  '  He  is  of 

one  mind,  and  who  can  turn  him  !'     Oh !  I  saw,  it  was  as 

easy  to  persuade  him  to  make  a  new  world,  a  new  covenant, 

or  a  new  Bible,  besides  that  we  have  already,  as  to  pray  for 

such  a  thing !    This  was  to  persuade  him,  that  what  he  had 

done  already,  was  mere  folly,  and  persuade  him  to  alter, 

yea,  to  disannul  the  whole  way  of  salvation.     And  then 

would  that  saying  rend  my  soul  asunder,  '  Neither  is  there 

salvation  in  any  other,  for  there  is  none  other  name  under 

heaven  given  among  men,  whereby  we  must  be  saved.* 

Acts  iv.  12. 

"  Now  the  most  free,  and  full,  and  gracious  words  of  the 
gospel,  were  the  greatest  torment  to  me  ;  yea,  nothing  so 
afflicted  me,  as  the  thoughts  of  Jesus  Christ ;  the  remem- 
brance of  a  Saviour.  Because  I  had  cast  him  off,  this 
brought  the  villany  of  my  sin,  and  my  loss  by  it,  to  mind. 
Nothing  did  twinge  my  conscience  like  this.  Every  thing 
that  I  thought  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  of  his  grace,  love,  good- 
ness, kindness,  gentleness,  meekness,  death,  blood,  promises, 
and  blessed  exhortations,  comforts,  and  consolations,  went 
to  my  soul  like  a  sword ;  for  still  unto  these  my  considera- 
tions of  the  Lord  Jesus,  these  thoughts  would  make  place 


180 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


for  themselves  in  my  heart, — *  Aye,  this  is  the  Jesus,  the 
loving  Saviour,  the  Son  of  God,  whom  you  have  parted 
with,  whom  you  have  slighted,  despised,  and  abused !  This 
is  the  only  Saviour,  the  only  Redeemer,  the  only  one  that 
could  so  love  sinners,  as  to  wash  them  from  their  sins  in 
his  own  most  precious  blood ;  but  you  have  no  part  nor 
lot  in  this  Jesus ;  you  have  put  him  from  you ;  you  have 
said  in  your  heart,  Let  him  go  if  he  will.  Now,  therefore, 
you  are  severed  from  him  ;  you  have  severed  yourself 
from  him  :  behold  then  his  goodness  ; — but  yourself  to  be 
no  partaker  of  it.'  Oh  !  thought  I,  what  have  I  lost,  what 
have  I  parted  with !  What  has  disinherited  my  poor  soul ! 
Oh !  it  is  sad  to  be  destroyed  by  the  grace  and  mercy 
of  God ;  to  have  the  Lamb,  the  Saviour,  turn  lion  and 
destroyer ;  I  could  not  bear  to  think  of  the  ivrath  of  the 
Lamb,  in  that  great  day  of  his  wrath,  when  no  rebels  to 
his  authority  will  be  able  to  stand.  I  also  trembled,  as  I 
have  said,  at  the  sight  of  the  saints  of  God,  especially 
at  those  that  greatly  loved  him,  and  that  made  it  their 
business  to  walk  continually  with  him  in  this  world ;  for 
they  did,  both  in  their  words,  their  carriages,  and  all  their 
expressions  of  tenderness  and  fear  to  sin  against  their 
precious  Saviour,  condemn,  lay  guilt  upon,  and  also  add 
continual  affliction  and  shame  unto  my  soul.  The  dread 
of  them  was  upon  me,  and  I  trembled  at  God's  Samuels  : 
'  And  Samuel  came  to  Bethlehem,  and  the  elders  of  the 
town  trembled  at  his  coming,  and  said,  Comest  thou 
peaceably?'    1  Sam.  xvi.  4. 

"  Now  also  the  tempter  began  afresh  to  mock  my  soul 
another  way,  saying,  '  That  Christ  indeed  did  pity  my  case, 
and  was  sorry  for  my  loss ;  but  forasmuch  as  I  had  sinned 
and  transgressed  as  I  had  done,  he  could  by  no  means  help 
me,  nor  save  me  from  what  I  feared :  for  my  sin  was  not 
of  the  nature  of  theirs,  for  whom  he  bled  and  died ; 
neither  was  it  counted  with  those  that  were  laid  to  his 
charge,  when  he  hanged  on  a  tree : — Therefore,  unless  he 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  181 

should  come  down  from  heaven,  and  die  anew  for  this  sin 
(though  indeed  he  did  greatly  pity  me),  yet  I  could  have 
no  benefit  of  him.'  These  things  may  seem  ridiculous  to 
others,  even  as  ridiculous  as  they  are  in  themselves ;  but 
to  me  they  were  most  tormenting  cogitations  :  every  one  of 
them  augmented  my  misery,  that  Jesus  Christ  should  have 
so  much  love  as  to  2^^ty  i^e,  when  yet  he  could  not  help 
me  too ;  nor  did  I  think  that  the  reason  why  he  could  not 
help  me,  was,  because  his  merits  were  weak,  or  his  grace 
and  salvation  spent  on  others  already,  but  because  his 
faithfulness  to  his  threatenings,  would  not  let  him  extend 
his  mercy  to  me.  Besides,  I  thought,  as  I  have  already 
hinted,  that  my  sin  was  not  within  the  bounds  of  that 
pardon,  that  was  wrapped  up  in  a  promise;  and  if  not, 
then  I  knew  surely,  that  it  was  more  easy  for  heaven  and 
earth  to  pass  away,  than  for  me  to  have  eternal  life.  So 
that  the  ground  of  all  these  fears  of  mine,  did  arise  from  a 
steadfast  belief  I  had  of  the  stability  of  the  holy  word  of 
God,  and  also  from  my  being  misinformed  of  the  nature 
of  my  sin. 

"  But  oh  !  how  this  would  add  to  my  affliction,  to  conceit 
that  I  should  be  guilty  of  such  a  sin,  for  which  he  did  not 
die !  These  thoughts  did  so  confound  me,  and  imprison 
me,  and  tie  me  up  from  faith,  that  I  knew  not  what  to  do. 
But  oh !  thought  I,  that  he  would  come  down  again ! 
Oh !  that  the  work  of  man's  redemption  was  yet  to  be 
done  by  Christ ! — how  would  I  pray  him  and  intreat  him 
to  count  and  reckon  this  sin  among  the  rest  for  which  he 
died  I  But  this  scripture  would  strike  me  down  as  dead  ; 
*  Christ  being  raised  from  the  dead,  dieth  no  more  ;  death 
hath  no  more  dominion  over  him.* 

"  Thus  by  the  strange  and  unusual  assaults  of  the 
tempter,  my  soul  was  like  a  broken  vessel,  driven  as  with 
the  winds,  and  tossed  sometimes  headlong  into  despair  j 
sometimes  upon  the  covenant  of  works,  and  sometimes  to 
wish  that  the  new  covenant,  and  the  conditions  thereof. 


182  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

might  so  far  forth,  as  I  thought  myself  concerned,  be 
turned  another  way,  and  changed.  But  in  all  these,  I 
was  as  those  that  jostle  against  the  rocks ;  more  broken, 
scattered,  and  rent.  Oh !  the  unthought-of  imaginations, 
frights,  fears,  and  terrors,  that  are  effected  by  a  thorough 
application  of  guilt  yielding  to  desperation  !  This  is  the 
man  that  hath  his  dwelling  among  the  tombs  with  the 
dead  ;  that  is  always  crying  out,  and  cutting  himself  with 
stones.  But,  I  say,  all  in  vain  ;  desperation  will  not 
comfort  him,  the  old  covenant  will  not  save  him :  nay, 
heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away,  before  one  jot  or  tittle 
of  the  word  and  law  of  grace  will  fail  or  be  removed. 
This  I  saw,  this  I  felt,  and  under  this  I  groaned ;  yet  this 
advantage  I  got  thereby ; — namely,  a  further  confirmation 
of  the  certainty  of  the  way  of  salvation  ;  and  that  the 
Scriptures  were  the  word  of  God.  Oh!  I  cannot  now 
express  what  I  then  saw  and  felt  of  the  steadiness  of  Jesus 
Christ,  the  rock  of  man's  salvation.  What  was  done, 
could  not  be  undone,  added  to,  nor  altered.  I  saw,  indeed, 
that  sin  might  drive  the  soul  beyond  Christ,  even  the  sin 
which  is  unpardonable  ;  but  woe  to  him  that  was  so  driven, 
for  the  word  would  shut  him  out. 

"  Thus  I  was  always  sinking,  whatever  I  did  think  or 
do.  So  one  day  I  walked  to  a  neighbouring  town,  and 
sat  down  upon  a  settle  in  the  street,  and  fell  into  a  very 
deep  pause  about  the  most  fearful  state  my  sin  had  brought 
me  to  J  and  after  long  musing,  I  lifted  up  my  head,  but 
methought  I  saw,  as  if  the  sun  that  shineth  in  the  heavens 
did  grudge  to  give  light ;  and  as  if  the  very  stones  in  the 
street,  and  tiles  upon  the  houses,  did  bend  themselves 
against  me.  Methought  that  they  all  combined  together 
to  banish  me  out  of  the  world.  I  was  abhorred  of  them, 
and  unfit  to  dwell  among  them,  or  be  partaker  of  their 
benefits,  because  I  had  sinned  against  the  Saviour.  O  how 
happy  now  was  every  creature  to  what  I  was !  For  they 
stood  fast,  and  kept  their  station,  but  I  was  gone  and  lost. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  183 

"  Then  breaking-  out  in  the  bitterness  of  my  soul,  I  said 
to  my  soul  with  a  grievous  sigh,  '  How  can  God  comfort 
such  a  wretch  !'  I  had  no  sooner  said  it,  but  this  returned 
upon  me,  as  an  echo  doth  answer  a  voice,  '  This  sin  is  not 
unto  death.'  At  which  I  was,  as  if  I  had  been  raised  out 
of  the  grave,  and  cried  out  again^  '  Lord,  how  couldst 
thou  find  out  such  a  word  as  this  !'  For  I  was  filled  with 
admiration  at  the  fitness,  and  at  the  unexpectedness  of  the 
sentence ;  the  fitness  of  the  word,  the  rightness  of  the 
timing  of  it ;  the  power,  and  sweetness,  and  light,  and 
glory  that  came  with  it  also,  were  marvellous  to  me  to 
find.  I  was  now,  for  the  time,  out  of  doubt,  as  to  that 
about  which  I  was  so  much  in  doubt  before :  my  fears 
before  were,  that  my  sin  was  not  pardonable,  and  so  that  I 
had  no  right  to  pray,  to  repent,  &c.  or  that  if  I  did,  it 
would  be  of  no  advantage  or  profit  to  me.  But  now, 
thought  I,  if  this  sin  is  not  unto  death,  then  it  is  pardon- 
able ;  therefore  from  this  I  have  encouragement  to  come 
to  God  by  Christ  for  mercy  to  consider  the  promise  of 
forgiveness,  as  that  which  stands  with  open  arms  to  receive 
me^  as  well  as  others.  This  therefore  was  a  great  easement 
to  my  mind,  to  wit,  that  my  sin  was  pardonable,  that  it  was 
not  the  sin  unto  death,  '  If  any  man  see  his  brother  sin  a 
sin  which  is  not  unto  death,  he  shall  ask,  and  he  shall  give 
him  life  for  them  that  sin  not  unto  death.  There  is  a  sin 
unto  death,  I  do  not  say  that  ye  shall  pray  for  it.  All 
unrighteousness  is  sin  ;  and  there  is  a  sin  not  unto  death.' 
1  John  V.  16,  17.  None  but  those  that  know  what  my 
trouble  (by  their  own  experience)  was,  can  tell  what  relief 
came  to  my  soul  by  this  consideration :  it  was  a  release  to 
me  from  my  former  bonds,  and  a  shelter  from  my  former 
storms  :  I  seemed  now  to  stand  upon  the  same  ground  with 
other  sinners,  and  to  have  as  good  right  to  the  word  and 
prayer  as  amj  of  them. 

"  Now  I  say,  I  was  in  hopes  that  my  sin  was  not 
unpardonable,  but  that  there  might  be  hopes  for  me  to 


184  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

obtain  forgiveness.  But  oh !  how  Satan  did  now  lay  about 
him  for  to  bring  me  down  again !  But  he  could  by  no 
means  do  it,  neither  this  day,  nor  the  most  part  of  the  next, 
for  this  sentence  stood  like  a  mill-post  at  my  back.  Yet 
towards  the  evening  of  the  next  day,  I  felt  this  word  begin 
to  leave  me,  and  to  withdraw  its  supportation  from  me,  and 
so  I  returned  to  my  old  fears  again  ;  but  with  a  great  deal 
of  grudging  and  peevishness,  for  I  feared  the  sorrow  of 
despair,  nor  could  my  faith  now  long  retain  this  word. 

"  But  the  next  day  at  evening,  being  under  many  fears, 
I  went  to  seek  the  Lord,  and  as  I  prayed,  I  cried,  and 
my  soul  cried  to  him  in  these  words,  with  strong  cries ; 
*  O  Lord,  I  beseech  thee,  shew  me  that  thou  hast  loved 
me  with  everlasting  love.'  I  had  no  sooner  said  it,  but 
with  sweetness  this  returned  upon  me,  as  an  echo,  or 
sounding  again,  '  I  have  loved  thee  with  an  everlasting 
love.'  Now  I  went  to  bed  in  quiet ;  also  when  I  awaked 
the  next  morning,  it  was  fresh  upon  my  soul ;  and  I 
believed  it. 

"  But  yet  the  tempter  left  me  not,  for  it  could  not  be  so 
little  as  an  hundred  times,  that  he,  that  day,  did  labour  to 
break  my  peace.  Oh  !  the  combats  and  conflicts  that  I  did 
then  meet  with  ;  as  I  strove  to  hold  by  this  word,  that  of 
Esau  would  fly  in  my  face  like  lightning  :  I  should  be  some- 
times up  and  down  twenty  times  in  an  hour ;  yet  God  did 
bear  me  out,  and  keep  my  heart  upon  this  word ;  from 
which  I  had  also,  for  several  days  together,  very  much 
sweetness,  and  comfortable  hopes  of  pardon.  For  thus  it 
was  made  out  unto  me,  '  I  loved  thee  whilst  thou  wast 
committing  this  sin,  I  loved  thee  before,  I  love  thee  still, 
and  I  will  love  thee  for  ever.' 

"  Yet  I  saw  my  sin  most  barbarous,  and  a  filthy  crime, 
and  could  not  but  conclude,  with  great  shame  and  astonish- 
ment, that  I  had  horribly  abused  the  holy  Son  of  God : 
wherefore  I  felt  my  soul  greatly  to  love  and  pity  him,  and 
mv  bowels  to  vearn  towards  him  \  for  I  saw  he  was  still 


»■  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  185 

my  friend,  and  did  reward  me  g-ood  for  evil ;  yea,  the  love 
and  affection  that  then  did  burn  within  me  to  my  Lord  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  did  work  at  this  time  such  a  strong- 
and  hot  desire  of  revengement  upon  myself  for  the  abuse  I 
had  done  unto  him,  that  to  speak  as  I  then  thought,  had  I 
a  thousand  g-allons  of  blood  within  my  veins,  I  could  freely 
then  have  spilt  it  all,  at  the  command  and  feet  of  this  my 
Lord  and  Saviour. 

"  And  as  I  was  thus  a  musing,  and  in  my  studies,  con- 
sidering how  to  love  the  Lord,  and  to  express  my  love  to 
him,  that  saying  came  in  upon  me,  '  If  thou,  Lord,  shouldst 
mark  iniquities,  O  Lord,  who  should  stand  ?  But  there  is 
forgiveness  with  thee,  that  thou  mayest  be  feared/  These 
were  good  words  to  me,  especially  the  latter  part  thereof ; 
to  wit,  that  there  is  forgiveness  with  the  Lord,  that  he 
might  be  feared ;  that  is,  as  I  then  understood  it,  that  he 
might  be  loved,  and  had  in  reverence  ;  for  it  was  thus 
made  out  to  me, — '  That  the  great  God  did  set  so  high  an 
esteem  upon  the  love  of  his  poor  creatures,  that  rather 
than  he  would  go  without  their  love,  he  would  pardon 
their  transgressions.* 

"  And  now  was  that  word  fulfilled  on  me,  and  I  was  also 
refreshed  by  it ;  '  Then  shall  they  be  ashamed  and  con- 
founded, and  never  open  their  mouths  any  more,  because 
of  their  shame,  when  I  am  pacified  towards  them,  for  all 
that  they  have  done,  saith  the  Lord  God/  Ezek.  xvi.  36. 
Thus  was  my  soul  at  this  time  (and  as  I  then  did  think  for 
ever)  set  at  liberty  from  being  afflicted  with  my  former 
guilt  and  amazement. 

*'  But  before  many  weeks  were  gone,  I  began  to  despond 
again  ;  fearing,  lest,  notwithstanding  all  that  I  had  enjoyed, 
that  I  might  be  deceived  and  destroyed  at  the  last :  for 
this  consideration  came  strong  into  my  mind, — '  that  what- 
ever comfort  and  peace  I  thought  I  might  have  from  the 
word  of  the  promise  of  life,  yet  unless  there  could  be  found 
in  my  refreshment,  a  concurrence  and  agreement  in  the 

B   B 


186 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


Scriptures,  let  me  think  what  I  will  thereof,  and  hold  it 
never  so  fast,  I  should  find  no  such  thing  at  the  end  ;  '  for 
the  Scriptures  cannot  be  broken/ 

"  Now  began  my  heart  again  to  ache,  and  fear  I  might 
meet  with  a  disappointment  at  last.  Wherefore  I  began 
with  all  seriousness  to  examine  my  former  comfort,  and  to 
consider  whether  one  that  had  sinned  as  I  had  done,  might 
with  confidence  trust  upon  the  faithfulness  of  God,  laid 
down  in  these  words,  by  which  I  had  been  comforted,  and 
on  which  I  had  leaned  myself.  But  now  were  brought  to 
my  mind,  *  For  it  is  impossible  for  those  who  were  once 
enlightened,  and  have  tasted  the  heavenly  gift,  and  were 
made  partakers  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  have  tasted  the 
good  word  of  God,  and  the  powers  of  the  world  to  come, 
if  they  shall  fall  away,  to  renew  them  again  unto  repent- 
ance.— For,  if  we  sin  wilfully,  after  we  have  received  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth,  there  remains  no  more  sacrifice  for 
sin,  but  a  certain  fearful  looking-for  of  judgment,  and  fiery 
indignation,  which  shall  devour  the  adversaries — Even  as 
Esau,  who  for  one  morsel  of  meat  sold  his  birthright. 
For  ye  know  how  that  afterwards,  when  he  would  have 
inherited  the  blessing,  he  was  rejected  ;  for  he  found  no  place 
of  repentance,  though  he  sought  it  carefully  with  tears.* 

"  Now  was  the  word  of  the  gospel  forced  from  my  soul ; 
so  that  no  promise  or  encouragement  was  to  be  found  in  the 
Bible  for  me.  And  now  would  that  saying  work  upon  my 
spirit  to  afflict  me,  *  Rejoice  not,  O  Israel,  for  joy,  as  other 
people.'  For  I  saw,  indeed,  there  was  cause  of  rejoicing 
for  those  that  held  to  Jesus ;  but  for  me,  I  had  cut  myself 
off  by  my  transgressions,  and  left  myself  neither  foot-hold^ 
nor  hand-holdy  among  all  the  stays  and  props  in  the 
precious  word  of  life. 

"  And  truly,  I  did  now  feel  myself  to  sink  into  a  gulph, 
as  a  house  whose  foundation  is  destroyed  :  1  did  liken 
myself  in  this  condition,  unto  the  case  of  a  child  that  was 
fallen  into  a  mill-pity  who  though  it  could  make  some  shifts 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  187 

to  scramble  and  sprawl  in  the  water,  yet  because  it  could 
find  neither  hold  for  hand  nor  foot,  therefore  at  last  it 
must  die  in  that  condition.  So  soon  as  this  fresh  assault 
had  fastened  on  my  soul,  that  scripture  came  into  my 
heart,  *  This  for  many  days*  And  indeed  I  found  it  was 
so ;  for  I  could  not  be  delivered,  nor  brought  to  peace 
again,  until  well  nigh  tivo  years  and  a  half  were  completely 
finished.  Wherefore  these  words,  though  in  themselves 
they  tended  to  discouragement,  yet  to  me,  who  feared  this 
condition  would  be  eternal,  they  were  at  some  times  as  a 
help  and  refreshment  to  me, 

"  For,  thought  I,  many  days  are  not  for  ever  ;  many  days 
will  have  an  end  ;  therefore  seeing  I  was  to  be  afflicted  not 
a  few  but  many  days,  yet  I  was  glad  it  was  but  for  many 
days.  Thus,  I  say,  I  would  recall  myself  sometimes,  and 
give  myself  a  help,  for  as  soon  as  ever  the  word  came  into 
my  mind,  at  first,  I  knew  my  trouble  would  be  long^  yet 
this  would  be  but  sometimes ;  for  I  could  not  always  think 
on  this,  nor  ever  be  helped  by  it,  though  I  did. 

"  Now  while  these  scriptures  lay  before  me,  and  laid  sin 
anew  at  my  door,  that  saying,  *  And  he  spake  a  parable  to 
them,  to  this  end,  that  men  ought  always  to  pray,  and  not 
to  faint,'  with  others,  did  encourage  me  to  prayer.  Then 
the  tempter  again  laid  at  me  very  sore,  suggesting,  '  that 
neither  the  mercy  of  God,  nor  yet  the  blood  of  Christ,  did 
at  all  concern  me,  nor  could  they  help  me  for  my  sin ; 
therefore  it  was  in  vain  to  pray.'  Yet  thought  I,  *  I  will 
pray."    *  But,'  said  the  tempter,  *  your  sin  is  unpardonable.' 

*  Well,'  said  I,  '  /  ivill  prcnj."  '  It  is  to  no  boot,'  said  he. 
'Yet,'  said  I,  *  I  will  pray.*  So  I  went  to  prayer  to  God; 
and  while  I  was  at  prayer,  I  uttered  words  to  this  effect ; 

*  Lord,  Satan  tells  me,  that  neither  thy  mercy,  nor  Christ's 
blood,  is  sufficient  to  save  my  soul :  Lord,  shall  I  honour 
thee  most,  by  believing  thou  wilt,  and  canst  ?  or  him,  by 
believing  thou  neither  wilt  nor  canst  ?  Lord,  I  would  fain 
honour  thee,  by  believing  thou  wilt  and  canst.' 


188  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

"  And  as  I  was  thus  before  the  Lord,  that  scripture 
fastened  on  my  heart,  '  O  man,  great  is  thy  faith,*  even  as 
if  one  had  clapped  me  on  the  back,  as  I  was  on  my  knees 
before  God :  yet  I  was  not  able  to  believe  that  this  was  a 
prayer  of  faith,  till  almost  six  months  after  ;  for  I  could 
not  think  that  I  had  faith,  or  that  there  should  be  a  word 
for  me  to  act  faith  on ;  therefore  I  should  still  be,  as 
sticking-  in  the  jaws  of  desperation,  and  went  mourning  up 
and  down  in  a  sad  condition. 

"  There  was  nothing  now  that  I  longed  for  more  than  to 
be  put  out  of  doubt,  as  to  this  thing  in  question  ;  and  as  I 
was  vehemently  desiring  to  know,  if  there  was  indeed  hope 
for  me,  these  words  came  rolling  into  my  mind,  *  Will  the 
Lord  cast  off  for  ever  ?  and  will  he  be  favourable  no  more  ? 
Is  his  mercy  clean  gone  for  ever  ?  Doth  his  promise  fail 
for  evermore  ?  Hath  God  forgotten  to  be  gracious  ? 
Hath  he  in  anger  shut  up  his  tender  mercies  ?'  And  all 
the  while  they  run  in  my  mind,  methought  I  had  still  this 
as  the  answer,  '  It  is  a  question  whether  he  hath  or  no : 
it  may  be  he  hath  not.'  Yea,  the  interrogatory  seemed  to 
me  to  carry  in  it  a  sure  affirmation  that  indeed  he  had  not, 
nor  would  so  cast  off,  but  would  be  favourable :  that  his 
promise  doth  not  fail,  and  that  he  hath  not  forgotten  to  be 
gracious,  nor  would  in  anger  shut  up  his  tender  mercy ! 
Something  also  there  was  upon  my  heart  at  the  same  time, 
which  I  now  cannot  call  to  mind,  which,  with  this  text, 
did  sweeten  my  heart,  and  make  me  conclude,  that  his 
mercy  might  not  be  quite  gone,  nor  gone  for  ever. 

**  At  another  time  I  remember,  I  was  again  muclr  «nder 
this  question,  '  Whether  the  blood  of  Christ  was  sufficient 
to  save  my  soul  T  In  which  doubt  I  continued  from 
morning  till  about  seven  or  eight  at  night :  and  at  last, 
when  I  was,  as  it  were,  quite  worn  out  with  fear,  lest  it 
should  not  lay  hold  on  me,  these  words  did  sound  suddenly 
within  my  heart,  '  He  is  able.'  But  methought,  this  word 
ahle^  was  spoke  loud  unto  me  ;  it  showed  a  great  word ;  it 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  189 

seemed  to  be  writ  in  great  letters,  and  gave  such  a 
jostle  to  my  fear  and  doubt  (I  mean  for  the  time  it  tarried 
with  me,  which  was  about  a  day)  as  I  never  had  from  that 
time,  all  my  life,  either  before  or  after.  *  Wherefore  he  is 
able  also  to  save  them  to  the  uttermost  that  come  unto 
God  by  him,  seeing-  he  ever  liveth  to  make  intercession  for 
them.' 

*'  But  one  morning  as  I  was  again  at  prayer,  and  trem- 
bling under  the  fear  of  this,  that  no  word  of  God  could 
help  me,  that  piece  of  a  sentence  darted  in  upon  me,  *  My 
grace  is  sufficient.*  At  this,  methought,  I  felt  some  stay, 
as  if  there  might  be  hope.  But,  oh !  how  good  a  thing  it 
is  for  God  to  send  his  word  ! — for  about  a  fortnight  before, 
I  was  looking  on  this  very  place,  and  then  I  thought  it 
could  not  come  near  my  soul  with  comfort,  therefore  1 
threw  down  my  hook  in  a  pet.  Then  I  thought  it  was  not 
large  enough  for  me ;  no,  not  large  enough,  but  now  it 
was  as  if  it  had  arms  of  grace  so  wide,  that  it  could  not 
only  enclose  me,  but  many  more  besides  ! 

"  By  these  words  I  was  sustained,  yet  not  without 
exceeding  conflicts,  for  the  space  of  seven  or  eight  weeks ; 
for  my  peace  would  be  in  and  out^  sometimes  twenty  times 
a  day ;  comfort  now,  and  trouble  presently ;  peace  now, 
and  before  I  could  go  a  furlong,  as  full  of  fear  and  guilt  as 
ever  heart  could  hold.  And  this  was  not  only  now  and 
then,  but  my  whole  seven  weeks*  experience.  For  this 
about  the  sufficiency  of  grace,  and  that  of  Esau's  parting 
with  his  birthright,  would  be  like  a  pair  of  Scales  within 
my  mind  ;  sometimes  one  end  would  be  uppermost,  and 
sometimes  again  the  other ;  according  to  which  would  be 
my  peace  or  troubles. 

*'  Therefore  I  did  still  pray  to  God,  that  he  would  come 
in  with  this  scripture  more  fully  on  my  heart ;  to  wit,  that 
he  would  help  me  to  apply  the  whole  sentence,  for  as  yet  I 
could  not.  That  he  gave,  that  I  gathered ;  but  further  I 
could  not  go,  for  as  yet  it  only  helped  me  to  hope  there 


190 


LIFF    OF    BUNYAN. 


might  be  mercy  for  me.  '  My  grace  is  sufficient.'  And 
though  it  came  no  further,  it  answered  my  former  question  ; 
to  wit,  That  there  was  hope ;  yet  because  *  for  thee/  was 
left  out,  I  was  not  contented,  but  prayed  to  God  for  that 
also.  Wherefore,  one  day,  when  I  was  in  a  meeting  of  God's 
people,  full  of  sadness  and  terror,  for  my  fears  again  were 
strong  upon  me  ;  and  as  I  was  now  thinking,  my  soul  was 
never  the  better,  but  my  case  most  sad  and  fearful,  these 
words  did  with  great  power  suddenly  break  in  upon  me ; 

*  My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee,  my  grace  is  sufficient  for 
thee,  my  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee,'  three  times  together. 
And  oh !  methought  that  every  word  was  a  mighty  word 
unto  me,  as  my,  and  grace^  and  sufficient^  and  for  thee ; 
they  were  then,  and  sometimes  are  still,  far  bigger  than 
others  be. 

"  At  which  time  my  understanding  was  so  enlightened, 
that  I  was  as  though  I  had  seen  the  Lord  Jesus  look  down 
from  heaven,  through  the  tiles  upon  me,  and  direct  these 
words  unto  me.  This  sent  me  mourning  home  ;  it  broke 
my  heart,  and  filled  me  full  of  joy,  and  laid  me  low  as  the 
dust ;  only  it  stayed  not  long  with  me  ; — I  mean  in  this 
glory  and  refreshing  comfort ;  yet  it  continued  with  me 
for  several  weeks,  and  did  encourage  me  to  hope.  But  as 
soon  as  that  powerful  operation  of  it  was  taken  from  my 
heart,  that  other,  about  Esau,  returned  upon  me  as  before : 
so  my  soul  did  hang  as  in  a  pair  of  scales  again,  sometimes 
up,  and  sometimes  down  ;  now  in  peace,  and  anon  again 
in  terror. 

"  Thus  I  went  on  for  many  weeks,  sometimes  comforted, 
and  sometimes  tormented;  and  especially  at  some  times 
my  torment  would  be  very  sore  ;  for  all  those  scriptures 
afore-named  in  the  Hebrews,  would  be  set  before  me,  as 
the  only  sentences  that  would  keep  me  out  of  heaven. 
Then  again  I  would  begin  to  repent  that  ever  that  thought 
went  through  me.     I  would  also  think  thus  with  myself; 

*  Why,  how  many  scriptures  are  there  against  me  ?     There 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  191 

are  but  three  or  four.  And  cannot  God  miss  them,  and 
save  me  for  all  them  ?'  Sometimes  again  I  would  think, 
Oh  !  if  it  were  not  for  these  three  or  four  words,  now  how 
might  I  be  comforted!  And  I  could  hardly  forbear  at 
some  times,  to  wish  them  out  of  the  book. 

"  Then  methought  I  should  see  as  if  both  Peter  and 
Paul,  and  John,  and  all  the  writers,  did  look  with  scorn 
upon  me,  and  hold  me  in  derision  ;  and  as  if  they  had  said 
unto  me,  *  All  our  words  are  truth  ;  one  of  as  much  force 
as  the  other.  It  is  not  we  that  have  cut  you  off,  but  you 
have  cast  away  yourself.  There  is  none  of  our  sentences 
that  you  must  take  hold  upon,  but  these,  and  such  as 
these ; — "  It  is  impossible,  there  remains  no  more  sacrifice 
for  sin. — And  it  had  been  better  for  them  not  to  have 
known  the  will  of  God,  than  after  they  had  known  it,  to 
turn  from  the  holy  commandment  delivered  unto  them, 
for  the  Scriptures  cannot  be  broken." ' 

"  These,  as  the  elders  of  the  city  of  refuge,  I  saw,  were 
to  be  judges  both  of  my  case  and  me,  while  I  stood  with 
the  avenger  of  blood  at  my  heels,  trembling  at  their  gate  for 
deliverance ;  also  with  a  thousand  fears  and  mistrusts,  I 
doubted  that  they  would  shut  me  out  for  ever.  '  They 
shall  be  your  refuge  from  the  avenger  of  blood.  And  when 
he  that  doth  flee  unto  one  of  those  cities  shall  stand  at  the 
entering  of  the  gate  of  the  city,  and  shall  declare  his  cause 
in  the  ears  of  the  elders  of  the  city,  they  shall  take  him 
into  the  city  unto  them,  and  give  him  a  place  that  he  may 
dwell  among  them.'   Jos.  xx.  6,  4. 

"  Thus  was  I  confounded,  not  knowing  what  to  do,  oi 
how  to  be  satisfied  in  this  question, '  Whether  the  Scrip 
tures  could  agree  in  the  salvation  of  my  soul  ?'  I  quaked 
at  the  apostles  ;  I  knew  their  words  were  true,  and  that 
they  must  stand  for  ever. 

"  And  I  remember  one  day,  as  I  was  in  divers  frames  of 
spirit,  and  considering  that  these  frames  were  according  to 
the  nature  of  several  scriptures  that  came  in  upon  my 


192  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

mind ;  if  this  of  grace,  then  was  I  quiet,  but  of  that  of 
EsaUy  then  tormented.  Lord,  thought  I,  '  if  both  these 
scriptures  should  meet  in  my  heart  at  once,  I  wonder  ivhich 
of  them  would  get  the  better  of  me.'  So  methought  I  had 
a  longing  mind  that  they  might  come  both  together  upon 
me  ;  yea,  I  desired  of  God  they  might. 

"  Well,  about  two  or  three  days  after,  so  they  did 
indeed  ;  they  bolted  both  upon  me  at  a  time,  and  did  work 
and  struggle  strongly  in  me  for  a  while.  At  last,  that 
about  Esau's  birthright  began  to  wax  weak,  and  withdraw, 
and  vanish  ;  and  this  about  the  sufficiency  of  grace  pre- 
vailed with  peace  and  joy.  And  as  I  was  in  a  muse  about 
this  thing,  that  scripture  came  in  upon  me,  *  Mercy 
rejoiceth  over  judgment.' 

"  This  was  a  wonderment  to  me ;  yet  truly,  I  am  apt  to 
think  it  was  of  God ;  for  the  word  of  the  law  and  wrath, 
must  give  place  to  the  word  of  life  and  grace ;  because, 
though  the  word  of  condemnation  be  glorious,  yet  the 
word  of  life  and  salvation  doth  far  exceed  in  glory,  as  it  is 
written,  *  How  shall  not  the  ministration  of  the  Spirit  be 
rather  glorious.  For  if  the  ministration  of  condemnation 
be  glorious,  much  more  doth  the  ministration  of  righteous- 
ness exceed  in  glory.  For  even  that  which  was  made 
glorious,  had  no  glory  in  this  respect,  by  reason  of  the 
glory  that  excelleth. — And  Peter  answered  and  said  to 
Jesus,  Master,  it  is  good  for  us  to  be  here,  and  let  us  make 
three  tabernacles,  one  for  thee,  and  one  for  Moses,  and 
one  for  Elias.  For  he  wist  not  what  to  say,  for  he  was 
sore  afraid.  And  there  was  a  cloud  overshadowed  them, 
and  a  voice  came  out  of  the  cloud,  saying.  This  is  my 
beloved  Son,  hear  him.'  Then  I  saw  that  Moses  and 
Elias  must  both  vanish,  and  leave  Christ  and  his  saints 
alone. 

"  That  scripture  did  also  most  sweetly  visit  my  soul ; 
*  And  him  that  cometh  to  me,  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out.' 
Oh !  the  comfort  that  I  had  from  this  word,  in  no  wise  ! 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  193 

As  who  should  say, — *  Bj  no  means,  for  nothing-  whatever 
he  hath  done.'  But  Satan  would  greatly  labour  to  pull 
this  promise  from  me,  telling  of  me,  '  That  Christ  did  not 
mean  me  and  such  as  I,  but  sinners  of  a  lower  rank,  that 
had  not  done  as  I  had  done/  But  I  would  answer  him 
again,  *  Satan,  here  is  in  these  words  no  such  exception  ; 
but  him  that  comesy  him,  any  him  :  "  Him  that  cometli  to 
me,  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out." '  And  this  I  well  re- 
member still,  that  of  all  the  sleights  that  Satan  used  to 
take  this  scripture  from  me,  yet  he  never  did  so  much  as 
put  this  question,  *  But  do  you  come  aright  ?'  And  I 
have  thought  the  reason  was,  because  he  thought  I  knew 
full  well  what  coming  aright  was ;  for  I  saw  that  to  come 
aright,  was  to  come  as  I  was,  a  vile  and  ungodly  sinner, 
and  so  cast  myself  at  the  feet  of  mercy,  condemning  myself 
for  sin.  If  ever  Satan  and  I  did  strive  for  any  word  of 
God  in  all  my  life,  it  was  for  this  good  word  of  Christ ;  he 
at  one  end,  and  I  at  the  other.  Oh !  what  work  we  made  ! 
It  was  for  this  in  John,  I  say,  that  we  did  so  tug  and 
strive  ;  he  pidled,  and  I  jn'^^^d ;  but  God  be  praised,  I 
overcame  him  ;   I  got  sweetness  from  it. 

"  But  notwithstanding  all  these  helps,  and  blessed  words 
of  grace,  yet  that  of  Esau's  selling  of  his  birthright,  would 
still  at  times  distress  my  conscience  :  for  though  I  had 
been  most  sweetly  comforted,  and  that  but  just  before,  yet 
when  it  came  into  my  mind,  it  would  make  me  fear  again : 
I  could  not  be  quite  rid  thereof,  it  would  every  day  be 
with  me  :  wherefore  now  I  went  another  way  to  work, 
even  to  consider  the  nature  of  this  blasphemous  thought ; 
I  mean,  if  I  should  take  the  words  at  the  largest,  and  give 
them  their  own  natural  force  and  scope,  even  every  word 
therein.  So  when  I  had  thus  considered,  I  found,  that  if 
they  vfere  fairly  taken,  they  would  amount  to  this  ;  *  That 
I  had  freely  left  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  to  his  choice, 
whether  he  would  be  my  Saviour  or  no  ;'  for  the  wicked 
words  were  these,  '  Let  him  go  if  he  will.'     Then  that 


194  LIFE    OF    BUN Y AN. 

scripture  gave  me  hope,  '  I  will  never  leave  thee,  nor 
forsake  thee.'  '  O  Lord,'  said  I,  *  but  I  have  left  thee.' 
Then  it  ansvv^ered  again,  *  But  /  will  not  leave  thee.''  For 
this  I  thanked  God  also. 

"  Yet  I  was  grievously  afraid  He  should,  and  found  it 
exceeding  hard  to  trust  him,  seeing  I  had  so  offended  him. 
I  could  have  been  exceeding  glad  that  this  thought  had 
never  befallen  ;  for  then  I  thought  I  could  with  more  ease 
and  freedom  in  abundance  have  leaned  on  his  grace.  I 
saw  it  was  with  me,  as  it  was  with  Joseph's  brethren ;  the 
guilt  of  their  own  wickedness  did  often  fill  them  with  fears 
that  their  brother  would  at  last  despise  them. 

"  Yet  above  all  the  scriptures  that  I  yet  did  meet  with, 
that  in  Joshua  xx.  was  the  greatest  comfort  to  me,  which 
speaks  of  the  slayer  that  was  to  flee  for  refuge  :  *  And  if 
the  avenger  of  blood  pursue  the  slayer,  then  saith  Moses, 
they  that  are  the  elders  of  the  city  of  refuge  shall  not 
deliver  him  into  his  hands,  because  he  smote  his  neighbour 
unwittingly,  and  hated  him  not  aforetime.'  Oh  !  blessed 
be  God  for  this  word.  I  was  convinced  that  I  was  the 
slayer ;  and  that  the  avenger  of  blood  pursued  me,  I  felt 
with  great  terror  ;  only  now  it  remained  that  I  inquire, 
whether  I  have  a  right  to  enter  the  city  of  refuge.  So  I 
found,  that  he  must  not,  '  who  lay  in  wait  to  shed  blood :' 
it  was  not  the  wilful  murderer,  but  he  who  unwittingly  did 
it,  he  who  did  it  unawares ;  not  out  of  spite,  or  grudge,  or 
malice,  he  that  shed  it  unwittingly  :  even  he  who  did  not 
hate  his  neighbour  before.  Wherefore,  I  thought  verily  I 
was  the  man  that  must  enter,  because  I  had  smitten  my 
neighbour  *  unwittingly,  and  hated  him  not  aforetime.'  I 
hated  him  not  aforetime  ;  no,  I  prayed  unto  Him,  was 
tender  of  sinning  against  him  ;  yea,  and  against  this  wicked 
temptation  I  had  strove  for  twelve  months  before  ;  yea, 
and  also  when  it  did  pass  through  my  heart,  it  did  in  spite 
of  my  teeth :  wherefore  I  thought  I  had  a  right  to  enter 
this  city,  and  the  elders,  which  are  the  apostles,  were  not 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  195 

to  deliver  me  up.    This  therefore  was  great  comfort  to  me, 
and  gave  me  much  ground  of  hope. 

*'  Yet  being  very  critical,  for  my  smart  had  made  me 
that  I  knew  not  what  ground  was  sure  enough  to  bear  me, 
I  had  one  question  that  my  soul  did  much  desire  to  be 
resolved  about ;  and  that  was,  '  Whether  it  be  possible  for 
any  soul  that  hath  sinned  the  unpardonable  sin,  yet  after 
that  to  receive  though  but  the  least  true  spiritual  comfort 
from  God  through  Christ  ?'  The  which  after  I  had  much 
considered,  I  found  the  answer  was,  *  No  they  could  not ;' 
and  that  for  these  reasons  : 

"  First,  Because  those  that  have  sinned  that  sin,  are 
debarred  a  share  in  the  blood  of  Christ,  and  being  shut 
out  of  that,  they  must  needs  be  void  of  the  least  ground 
of  hope,  and  so  of  spiritual  comfort ;  '  For  to  such  there 
remains  no  more  sacrifice  for  sin.'  Secondly,  Because 
they  are  denied  a  share  in  the  promise  of  life :  *  They  shall 
never  be  forgiven  neither  in  this  world,  nor  in  that  which 
is  to  come.'  Thii'dly,  The  Son  of  God  excludes  them 
also  from  a  share  in  his  blessed  intercession,  being  for  ever 
ashamed  to  own  them,  both  before  his  holy  Father,  and 
the  blessed  angels  in  heaven. 

"  When  I  had  with  much  deliberation  considered  of  this 
matter,  and  could  not  but  conclude  that  the  Lord  had 
comforted  me,  and  that  too  after  this  my  wicked  sin :  then, 
methought,  I  durst  venture  to  come  nigh  unto  those  most 
fearful  and  terrible  scriptures,  with  which  all  this  while  I 
had  been  so  greatly  affrighted,  and  on  which  indeed,  before 
I  durst  scarce  cast  mine  eyes  (yea,  had  much  ado  an 
hundred  times,  to  forbear  wishing  them  out  of  the  Bible), 
for  I  thought  they  would  destroy  me :  but  now,  I  say,  I 
began  to  take  some  measure  of  encouragement,  to  come 
close  to  them  to  read  them,  and  consider  them,  and  to 
weigh  their  scope  and  tendency. 

"  The  which  when  I  began  to  do,  I  found  their  visage 
changed ;    for    they    looked    not    so  grimly,  as    before    I 


196  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

thought  they  did.  And  first  I  came  to  the  seventh  of  the 
Hebrews,  yet  trembling-  for  fear  it  should  strike  me ;  which 
when  I  had  considered,  I  found  that  the  falling  there 
intended,  was  a  falling  quite  away  ;  and  is  as  I  conceived, 
a  falling  from,  and  absolute  denying  of  the  gospel,  of  remis- 
sion of  sins  by  Jesus  Christ ;  for,  from  them  the  apostle 
begins  his  argument,  verse  1,  2,  3.  Secondly,  I  found  that 
this  falling  away  must  be  openly^  even  in  the  view  of  the 
world,  even  so  as  *  to  put  Christ  to  an  open  shame.' 
Thirdly^  I  found  those  he  there  intended,  were  for  ever 
shut  up  of  God,  both  in  blindness,  hardness,  and  im- 
penitency  :  '  It  is  impossible  they  should  be  renewed  again 
unto  repentance.'  By  all  the  particulars,  I  found  to  God*s 
everlasting  praise,  my  sin  was  not  the  sin  in  this  place 
intended. 

"  First,  I  confessed  I  was  fallen,  but  not  fallen  away  ; 
that  is  from  the  profession  of  faith  in  Jesus  unto  eternal  life. 

"  Secondly,  I  confessed  that  I  had  put  Jesus  Christ  to 
shame  by  my  sin,  but  not  to  open  shame ;  I  did  not  deny 
him  before  men,  nor  condemn  him  as  a  fruitless  one  before 
the  world. 

"  Thirdly,  Nor  did  I  find  that  God  had  shut  me  up,  or 
denied  me  to  come  (though  I  found  it  hard  work  indeed  to 
come)  to  him  by  sorrow  and  repentance  :  blessed  be  God 
for  unsearchable  grace. 

"Then  I  considered  that  in  the  10th  chapter  of  the 
Hebrews,  the  26,  27,  28,  and  29  ver.  and  found  that  the 
wilful  sin  there  mentioned,  is  not  every  wilful  sin,  but  that 
which  doth  throw  off  Christ,  and  then  his  commandments 
too.  Secondly,  That  must  be  done  also  openly,  before  two 
or  three  witnesses,  to  answer  that  of  the  law,  verse  28. 
Thirdly,  This  sin  cannot  be  committed,  but  with  great 
despite  done  to  the  Spirit  of  grace ;  despising  both  the 
dissuasions  from  that  sin,  and  the  persuasions  to  the  con- 
trary. But  the  Lord  knows,  though  this  my  sin  was 
devilish,  yet  it  did  not  amount  to  these. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  197 

"  And  as  touching  that  in  the  12th  chapter  of  the 
Hebrews,  about  Esau's  selling  of  his  birthright:  though 
this  was  that  which  kilkd  me,  and  stood  like  a  spear 
against  me,  yet  now  I  did  consider,  Firsts  That  his  was 
not  a  hasty  thought,  against  the  continual  labour  of  his 
mind,  but  a  thought  consented  to,  and  put  in  practice 
likewise,  and  that  after  some  deliberation.  Gen,  xxv. 
Secondly y  It  was  a  public  and  open  action,  even  before  his 
brother,  if  not  before  many  more ;  this  made  his  sin  of  a 
far  more  heinous  nature  than  otherwise  it  would  have  been. 
Thirdly^  He  continued  to  slight  his  birthright :  he  did  eat 
and  drink,  and  went  his  way :  thus  Esau  despised  his  birth- 
right ;  yea,  twenty  years  after  he  was  found  to  despise  it 
still.  And  Esau  said,  *  I  have  enough,  my  brother,  keep 
that  thou  hast  thyself.' 

"  Now  as  touching  this,  that  Esau  '  sought  a  place  of 
repentance ;'  thus  I  thought :  First,  This  was  not  for  the 
birthright,  but  the  blessing  :  this  is  clear  from  the  apostle, 
and  is  distinguished  by  Esau  himself;  he  hath  taken  away 
my  birthright  (that  is,  formerly) ;  and  now  he  hath  taken 
away  my  blessing  also.  Secondly,  Now  this  being  thus 
considered,  I  came  again  to  the  apostle,  to  see  what  might 
be  the  mind  of  God,  in  a  New  Testament  style  and  sense, 
concerning  Esau's  sin ;  and  so  far  as  I  could  conceive,  this 
was  the  mind  of  God,  that  the  birthright  signified  regene- 
ration, and  the  blessing,  the  eternal  inheritance ;  for  so  the 
apostle  seems  to  hint.  '  Lest  there  be  any  profane  person, 
as  Esau,  who  for  one  morsel  of  meat  sold  his  birthright ; 
as  if  he  should  say,  that  shall  cast  off  all  those  blessed 
beginnings  of  God,  that  at  present  are  upon  him,  in  order 
to  a  new  birth  ;  lest  they  become  as  Esau,  even  be  rejected 
afterwards,  when  they  should  inherit  the  blessing. 

"  For  many  there  are,  who  in  the  day  of  grace  and 
mercy,  despise  those  things  which  are  indeed  the  birthright 
to  heaven,  who  yet  when  the  deciding  day  appears,  will  cry 
as  loud  as  Esau,  '  Lord,  Lord,  open  to  us  j'  but  then,  as 


198  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Isaac  would  not  repent,  no  more  will  God  the  Father,  but 
will  say,  '  I  have  blessed  these,  yea,  and  they  shall  be 
blessed  ;'  but  as  for  you,  '  Depart,  you  are  the  workers  of 
iniquity.' 

"  When  I  had  thus  considered  these  scriptures,  and 
found  that  thus  to  understand  them,  was  not  against,  but 
according  to  other  scriptures ;  this  still  added  further  to 
my  encouragement  and  comfort,  and  also  gave  a  great  blow- 
to  that  objection,  to  wit,  '  That  the  scriptures  could  not 
agree  in  the  salvation  of  my  soul.'  And  now  remained 
only  the  hinder  part  of  the  tempest,  for  the  thunder  was 
gone  beyond  me,  only  some  drops  did  still  remain,  that 
now  and  then  would  fall  upon  me ;  but  because  my  former 
frights  and  anguish  were  very  sore  and  deep,  therefore  it 
oft  befel  me  still,  as  it  befalleth  those  that  have  been  scared 
with  fire  ; — I  thought  every  voice  was  fire  !  fire  !  Every 
little  touch  would  hurt  my  tender  conscience. 

"  But  one  day,  as  I  was  passing  into  the  field,  and  that  too 
with  some  dashes  on  my  conscience,  fearing  lest  yet  all  was 
not  right,  suddenly  this  sentence  fell  upon  my  soul,  *  Thy 
righteousness  is  in  heaven  ;*  and  methought  withal,  I  saw 
with  the  eyes  of  my  soul,  Jesus  Christ  at  God's  right  hand  ; 
there,  I  say,  was  my  righteousness  ;  so  that  wherever  I  was, 
or  whatever  I  was  doing,  God  could  not  say  of  me,  '  He 
wants  my  righteousness  j'  for  that  was  just  before  him.  I 
also  saw  moreover,  that  it  was  not  my  good  frame  of  heart 
that  made  my  righteousness  better,  nor  yet  my  bad  frame 
that  made  my  righteousness  worse ;  for  my  righteousness 
was  Jesus  Christ  himself,  '  The  same  yesterday,  to-day, 
and  for  ever.' 

"  Now  did  my  chains  fall  off  my  legs  indeed ;  I  was 
loosed  from  my  afflictions  and  irons  ;  my  temptations  also 
fled  away  ;  so  that  from  that  time  those  dreadful  scriptures 
of  God  left  off  to  trouble  me  :  now  went  I  also  home 
rejoicing,  for  the  grace  and  love  of  God  ;  so  when  I  came 
home,  I  looked  to  see  if  I  could  find  that  sentence  j  '  Thy 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  199 

righteousness  is  in  heaven,'  but  could  not  find  such  a 
saying- ;  wherefore  my  heart  began  to  sink  again,  only 
that  was  brought  to  my  remembrance,  '  He  is  made 
unto  us  of  God,  wisdom,  righteousness,  sanctification, 
and  redemption :'  by  this  word  I  saw  the  other  sentence 
true. 

"  For  by  this  scripture  I  saw  that  the  man  Christ  Jesus, 
as  he  is  distinct  from  us,  as  touching  his  bodily  presence, 
so  he  is  our  righteousness  and  sanctification  before  God. 

I  Here  therefore  I  lived,  for  some  time,  very  sweetly  at 
peace  with  God  through  Christ ;    oh  !  methought  Christ ! 

I  Christ !  there  was  nothing  but  Christ  that  was  before  my 
eyes :  I  was  not  now  (only)  for  looking  upon  this  and  the 
other  benefits  of  Christ  apart,  as  of  his  blood,  burial,  or 
resurrection,  but  considering  him  as  a  whole  Christ ! — as 
he  in  whom  all  these,  and  all  other  his  virtues,  relations, 
offices,  and  operations  met  together,  and  that  he  sat  on  the 
right  hand  of  God  in  heaven. 

"  'Twas  glorious  to  me  to  see  his  exaltation,  and  the  worth 
and  prevalency  of  all  his  benefits ;  and  that,  because  now  I 
could  look  from  myself  to  him,  and  would  reckon,  that  all 
those  graces  of  God  that  now  were  green  on  me,  were  yet 
but  like  those  cracked  groats  and  fourpeuce-halfpennies 
that  rich  men  carry  in  their  purses,  when  their  gold  is  in 
their  trunk  at  home  :  oh  !  I  saw  my  gold  was  in  my  trunk 
at  home  !  In  Christ  my  Lord  and  Saviour.  Now  Christ 
was  all ;  all  my  righteousness,  all  my  sanctification^  and  all 
my  redemption. 

"  Further,  the  Lord  did  also  lead  me  into  the  mystery 
of  union  with  the  Son  of  God ;  that  I  was  joined  to  him, 
*  that  I  was  flesh  of  his  flesh,  and  bone  of  his  bone  ;'  for 
now  was  that  word  of  St.  Paul  sweet  to  me.  By  this  also 
was  my  faith  in  him,  as  my  righteousness,  the  more  con- 
firmed in  me ;  for  if  he  and  I  were  one,  then  his  righteous- 
ness was  mine,  his  merits  mine,  his  victory  also  mine. 
Now  could  I  see  myself  in  heaven  and  earth  at  once :  in 


200  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

heaven  by  Christ,   by  my  head,  by  my  righteousness  and 
life,  though  on  earth  by  my  body  or  person. 

"  Now  I  saw,  that  Christ  Jesus  was  looked  upon  of 
God  :  and  should  also  be  looked  upon  by  us,  as  that 
common  or  public  person,  in  whom  all  the  whole  body  of 
his  elect  are  always  to  be  considered  and  reckoned;  that 
we  fulfilled  the  law  by  him,  died  by  him,  rose  from  the 
dead  by  him,  got  the  victory  over  sin,  death,  the  devil, 
and  hell,  by  him ;  when  he  died,  we  died,  and  so  of  his 
resurrection.  '  Thy  dead  men  shall  live,  together  with  my 
dead  body  they  shall  arise,'  saith  he.  And  again,  *  after 
two  days  he  will  revive  us,  and  the  third  day  we  shall  live 
in  his  sight.'  Which  is  now  fulfilled,  by  the  sitting  down 
of  the  Son  of  man  on  the  right  hand  of  the  majesty  in 
the  heavens,  according  to  that  to  the  Ephesians,  '  He 
hath  raised  us  up  together  and  made  us  sit  together  in 
heavenly  places  in  Christ  Jesus.' 

"  Oh !  these  blessed  considerations  and  scriptures,  with 
many  others  of  like  nature,  were  in  those  days  made  to 
spangle  in  mine  eye,  so  that  I  have  cause  to  say,  '  Praise 
ye  the  Lord  God  in  his  sanctuary,  praise  him  in  the  firma- 
ment of  his  power  ;  praise  him  for  his  mighty  acts  ;  praise 
him  according  to  his  excellent  greatness.'    Psal.  cl.  1,  2. 

"  Having  thus  in  a  few  words  given  you  a  taste  of  the 
sorrow  and  affliction  that  my  soul  went  under,  by  the  guilt 
and  terror  that  these  my  wicked  thoughts  did  lay  me 
under ;  and  having  given  you  also  a  touch  of  my  deliver- 
ance therefrom,  and  of  the  sweet  and  blessed  comfort  that 
I  met  with  afterwards,  which  comfort  dwelt  about  a  twelve- 
month with  my  heart,  to  my  unspeakable  admiration :  I 
will  now  (God  willing),  before  I  proceed  any  farther,  give 
you  in  a  word  or  two,  what  as  I  conceive,  was  the  cause 
of  this  temptation  ;  and  also  after  that,  what  advantage^  at 
the  last,  it  became  unto  my  soul. 

"  For  the  causes^  I  conceived  they  were  principally  two  : 
of  which  two  also  I  was  deeply  convinced  all  the  time  this 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  201 

trouble  lay  upon  me.  The  first  was,  for  that  I  did  not, 
when  I  was  delivered  from  the  temptation  that  went  before, 
still  pray  to  God  to  keep  me  from  the  temptations  that 
were  to  come  ;  for  though,  as  I  can  say  in  truth,  my  soul 
was  much  in  prayer  before  this  trial  seized  me, — yet  then 
I  prayed  only,  or  at  the  most  principally,  for  the  removal 
of  present  troubles,  and  for  fresh  discoveries  of  his  love  in 
Christ,  which  I  saw  afterwards  was  not  enough  to  do  ;  1 
also  should  have  prayed  that  the  great  God  would  keep  me 
from  the  evil  that  was  to  come. 

'*  Of  this  I  was  made  deeply  sensible  by  the  prayer  of 
holy  David,  who  when  he  was  under  present  mercy,  yet 
prayed  that  God  would  hold  him  back  from  sin  and  tempta- 
tion to  come  ;  '  For  then,'  saith  he,  '  shall  I  be  upright, 
and  I  shall  be  innocent  from  the  great  transgression.*  By 
this  very  w^ord  was  I  galled  and  condemned,  quite  through 
this  long  temptation. 

"  That  was  also  another  word  that  did  much  condemn 
me  for  my  folly,  in  the  neglect  of  this  duty.  '  Let  us 
therefore  come  boldly  unto  the  throne  of  grace,  that  we 
may  obtain  mercy,  and  find  grace  to  help  in  time  of  need.' 
This  I  had  not  done,  and  therefore  was  thus  suffered  to  sin 
and  fall,  according  to  what  is  written,  '  Pray  that  ye  enter 
not  into  temptation.'  And  truly  this  very  thing  is  to  this 
day  of  such  weight  and  awe  upon  me,  that  I  dare  not, 
when  I  come  before  the  Lord,  go  off  my  knees,  until  1 
entreat  him  for  help  and  mercy  against  the  temptations 
that  are  to  come : — and  I  do  beseech  thee,  reader,  that  thou 
learn  to  beware  of  my  negligence,  by  the  afflictions,  that 
for  this  thing  I  did  for  days,  and  months,  and  years,  with 
sorrow  undergo. 

"  Another  cause  of  this  temptation  was,  that  I  had 
tempted  God:  and  on  this  manner  did  I  do  it :  upon  a 
time  my  wife  was  great  with  child,  and  before  her  full  time 
was  come,  her  pangs,  as  of  a  woman  in  travail,  were  fierce 
and  strong  upon  her,  even  as  she  would  have  immediately 

D  D 


202  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

fallen  into  labour,  and  been  delivered  of  an  untimely  birth: 
now  at  this  very  time  it  was,  that  I  had  been  so  strongly 
tempted  to  question  the  being  of  God ;  wherefore,  as  my 
wife  lay  crying  by  me,  I  said,  but  with  all  secrecy  imaginable 
(even  thinking  in  my  heart),  *  Lord,  if  now  thou  wilt  re- 
move this  sad  affliction  from  my  wife,  and  cause  that  she  be 
troubled  no  more  therewith  this  night  (and  now  were  her 
pangs  just  upon  her),  then  I  shall  know  that  thou  canst 
discern  the  most  secret  thoughts  of  the  heart/ 

"  I  had  no  sooner  said  it  in  my  heart,  but  her  pangs 
were  taken  from  her,  and  she  was  cast  into  a  deep  sleep, 
and  so  continued  till  morning ;  at  this  I  greatly  marvelled, 
not  knowing  what  to  think ;  but  after  I  had  been  awake  a 
good  while,  and  heard  her  cry  no  more,  I  fell  asleep  also  ; 
so  when  I  awaked  in  the  morning,  it  came  upon  me  again, 
even  what  I  had  said  in  my  heart  the  last  night,  and  how  the 
Lord  had  showed  me,  that  he  hiew  my  secret  thoughts ;  which 
was  a  great  astonishment  unto  me  for  several  weeks  after. 

"  Well,  about  a  year  and  a  half  afterwards,  that  wicked 
sinful  thought,  of  which  I  have  spoken  before,  went 
through  my  wicked  heart,  even  this  thought,  *  let  Christ 
go  if  he  will ;'  so  when  I  was  fallen  under  the  guilt  of  this, 
the  remembrance  of  my  other  thought,  and  of  the  effect 
thereof,  would  also  come  upon  me  with  this  retort,  which 
also  carried  rebuke  along  with  it,  *  now  you  may  see,  that 
God  doth  know  the  most  secret  thoughts  of  the  heart.' 

*'  And  with  this,  that  of  the  passages  that  were  betwixt 
the  Lord,  and  his  servant  Gideon,  fell  upon  my  spirit ; 
how  because  that  Gideon  tempted  God  with  his  fleece, 
both  wet  and  dry,  when  he  should  have  believed  and 
ventured  upon  his  words ;  therefore  the  Lord  did  after- 
wards so  try  him,  as  to  send  him  against  an  innumerable 
company  of  enemies,  and  that  too,  as  to  outward  appear- 
ance, without  any  strength  or  help.  Thus  he  served 
me,  and  that  justly,  for  I  should  have  believed  his  word, 
and  not  have  put  an  if  upon  the  all-seeingness  of  God. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  203 

"  And  now,  to  show  you  something-  of  the  advantages 
that  I  also  have  gained  by  this  temptation :  and  first,  by 
this  I  was  made  continually  to  possess  in  my  soul  a  very 
wonderful  sense  both  of  the  blessing  and  g-lory  of  God, 
and  of  his  beloved  Son  ;  in  the  temptation  that  went 
before,  my  soul  was  perplexed  with  unbelief,  blasphemy, 
and  hardness  of  heart,  questions  about  the  being  of  God, 
Christ,  the  truth  of  the  word,  and  certainty  of  the  world 
to  come  :  I  say,  then  I  was  greatly  assaulted  and  tormented 
with  atheism  ; — but  now  the  case  was  otherwise  ;  now  was 
God  and  Christ  continually  before  my  face,  though  not  in 
a  way  of  comfort,  but  in  a  way  of  exceeding  dread  and 
terror.  The  glory  of  the  holiness  of  God,  did  at  this  time 
break  me  to  pieces ;  and  the  bowels  and  compassion  of 
Christ  did  break  me  as  on  the  wheel  ;  for  I  could  not 
consider  him  but  as  a  lost  and  rejected  Christ,  the  remem- 
brance of  whom,  was  as  the  continual  breaking  of  my 
bones. 

"  The  Scriptures  also  were  wonderful  things  unto  me  ;  I 
saw  that  the  truth  and  verity  of  them  were  the  keys  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven ;  those  that  the  Scriptures  favour,  they 
must  inherit  bliss ;  but  those  that  they  oppose  and  con- 
demn, must  perish  for  evermore.  Oh !  this  word,  '  For 
the  Scriptures  cannot  be  broken,'  would  rend  the  caul  of 
my  heart :  and  so  would  that  other,  *  Whose  sins  ye  remit, 
they  are  remitted ;  but  whose  sins  ye  retain,  they  are 
retained.'  Now  I  saw  the  apostles  to  be  the  elders  of  the 
city  of  refuge.  Those  that  they  were  to  receive  in,  were 
received  to  life  ;  but  those  that  they  shut  out,  were  to  be 
slain  by  the  avenger  of  blood. 

"  Oh  !  one  sentence  of  the  Scripture  did  more  afflict  and 
terrify  my  mind,  I  mean  those  sentences  that  stood  against 
me  (as  sometimes  I  thought  they  every  one  did)  more,  I 
say,  than  an  army  of  forty  thousand  men  that  might  come 
against  me.  Woe  be  to  him  against  whom  the  Scriptures 
bend  themselves ! 


204  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

"  By  this  temptation  I  was  made  to  see  more  into  the 
nature  of  the  promises  than  ever  I  had  before  ;  for  I  lying- 
now  trembling-  under  the  mig-hty  hand  of  God,  continually 
torn  and  rent  by  the  thundering  of  his  justice  ; — this  made 
me  with  careful  heart,  and  watchful  eye,  and  great  fearful- 
ness,  to  turn  over  every  leaf,  and  with  much  diligence, 
mixed  with  trembling,  to  consider  every  sentence,  together 
with  its  natural  force  and  latitude. 

"  By  this  temptation  also  I  was  greatly  holden  off  from 
my  former  foolish  practice  of  putting  by  the  word  of 
promise  when  it  came  into  my  mind ;  for  now,  though  I 
could  not  suck  that  comfort  and  sweetness  from  the 
promise,  as  I  had  done  at  other  times,  yet  like  to  a  man 
sinking,  I  would  catch  at  all  I  saw ;  formerly  I  thought  I 
might  not  meddle  with  the  promise,  unless  I  felt  its  com- 
fort ;  but  now  'twas  no  time  thus  to  do  ;  the  avenger  of 
blood  too  hardly  did  pursue  me ! 

"  Now  therefore  was  I  glad  to  catch  at  that  word  which 
yet  I  feared  I  had  no  ground  or  right  to  own ;  and  even 
to  leap  into  the  bosom  of  that  promise,  that  yet  I  feared 
did  shut  its  heart  against  me.  Now  also  I  would  labour  to 
take  the  word  as  God  hath  laid  it  down,  without  restraining 
the  natural  force  of  one  syllable  thereof.  O  what  did  I 
see  in  that  blessed  sixth  chapter  of  St.  John :  '  And  him 
that  Cometh  to  me  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out.'  Now  I 
began  to  consider  with  myself,  that  God  had  a  bigger 
mouth  to  speak  with  than  I  had  a  heart  to  conceive  with  ; 
I  thought  also  with  myself,  that  he  spake  not  his  words  in 
haste,  or  in  an  unadvised  heat,  but  with  infinite  wisdom 
and  judgment,  and  in  very  truth  and  faithfulness. 

"  I  would  in  these  days,  often  in  my  greatest  agonies 
e\en flounce  towards  the  promise  (as  the  horses  do  towards 
sound  ground,  that  yet  stick  in  the  mire),  concluding 
(though  as  one  almost  bereft  of  his  wits  through  fear)  on 
this  will  I  rest  and  stay,  and  leave  the  fulfilling  of  it  to 
the  God  of  heaven  that  made  it.      Oh  !  many  a  'pull  hath 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  205 

my  heart  had  with  Satan,  for  that  blessed  sixth  chapter  of 
St.  John  :  I  did  not  now,  as  at  other  times,  look  principally 
for  comf(yi%  though,  O  how  welcome  would  it  have  been  unto 
me  !  But  now  a  word^  a  word  to  lean  a  weary  soul  upon, 
that  it  might  not  sink  for  ever ! — 'twas  that  I  hunted  for. 

"  Yea,  often  when  I  have  been  making  to  the  promise,  I 
have  seen  as  if  the  Lord  would  refuse  my  soul  for  ever  ;  I 
was  often  as  if  I  had  run  upon  the  pikes,  and  as  if  the  Lord 
had  thrust  at  me,  to  keep  me  from  him,  as  with  a  flaming 
sword.  Then  would  I  think  of  Esther,  who  went  to 
petition  the  king  contrary  to  the  law,  '  So  will  I  go  in  unto 
the  king,  which  is  not  according  to  law,  and  if  I  perish  I 
perish.'  I  thought  also  of  Benhadad's  servants,  who  went 
with  ropes  upon  their  heads  to  their  enemies  for  mercy. 
The  woman  of  Canaan  also,  that  would  not  be  daunted, 
though  called  dog  by  Christ ;  and  the  man  that  went  to 
borrow  bread  at  midnight,  were  also  great  encouragements 
unto  me. 

"  I  never  saw  those  heights  and  depths  in  grace,  and 
love  and  mercy,  as  I  saw  after  this  temptation.  Great  sins 
do  draw  out  great  grace ;  and  where  guilt  is  most  terrible 
and  fierce,  there  the  mercy  of  God  in  Christ,  when  showed 
to  the  soul,  appears  most  high  and  mighty.  When  Job 
had  passed  through  his  captivity,  he  had  twice  as  much  as 
he  had  before.  Blessed  be  God  for  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 
Many  other  things  I  might  here  make  observation  of,  but 
I  would  be  brief,  and  therefore  shall  at  this  time  omit  them ; 
and  do  pray  God  that  my  harms  may  make  others  fear  to 
off'end,  lest  they  also  be  made  to  bear  the  iron  yoke  as  I  did. 

'*  1  had  two  or  three  times,  at  or  about  my  deliverance 
from  this  temptation,  such  strong  apprehensions  of  the  grace 
of  God ;  that  I  could  hardly  bear  up  under  it :  it  was  so 
out  of  measure  amazing,  when  I  thought  it  could  reach 
me,  that  I  do  now  think  if  that  sense  of  it  had  abode  long 
upon  me,  it  would  have  made  me  incapable  for  business." 


206 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

bunyan's  baptism. 
1653. 

After  having'  been  thus  extricated  again  from  the  horrible 
pit  and  miry  clay  of  despair,  Bunyan  joined  GiflPord's 
Church  in  Bedford.  This  was  in  1653.  He  was  then, 
says  Ivimey,  "  about  twenty-five  years  of  age." 

It  was,  it  will  be  recollected,  whilst  worshipping  with 
this  little  Church,  that  the  promise,  "  My  grace  is  suffi- 
cient for  thee,"  seemed  to  him  written  in  capital  letters, 
and  spoken  to  him  through  the  tiUs  from  heaven,  by  Jesus 
Christ,  This,  had  there  been  no  other  strong  associations 
between  his  mind  and  the  Meeting,  would  have  endeared 
both  the  place  and  the  people  to  him.  Even  Elstow 
Church  would  have  been  more  sacred  to  him  in  the  days 
of  his  superstition  than  it  was,  had  he  known  that  it  was 
founded  in  honour  of  Helena,  the  mother  of  Constantine. 
Any  thing  ancient  or  extraordinary  had  a  magnetic  charm 
for  his  taste.  He  had,  however,  other  and  better  reasons 
for  uniting  himself  with  GifFord's  flock,  "to  walk  in  the 
order  and  ordinances  of  Christ  with  them ;"  as  he  well 
describes  Church  fellowship.  The  Minister  and  the 
people  had  been  his  best  friends.  They  had  been  unable 
to  cheer  him  for  years  ;  but  they  watched  over  him,  and 
wept  with  him,  all  the  time.  Neither  by  word  or  look 
had  they  ever  betrayed,  as  he  sometimes  suspected,  a  fear 
to  pray  for  him.     In  like  manner,  when  he  offered  himself 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  207 

to  their  fellowship,  they  welcomed  him  sooner  than  GifFord 
himself  had  been,  and  manifested  none  of  those  doubts  of 
his  sanity  which  philosophy  has  insinuated,  although  they 
had  witnessed  all  his  wildest  moods.  "  After  I  propounded 
to  the  Church  my  desire  to  walk  with  them,  I  was  admitted 
by  them,"  is  all  the  account  he  gives  of  his  reception  ;  but 
it  tells  much,  highly  to  their  credit.  Well  might  Dr. 
Southey  say,  "  had  it  not  been  for  the  encouragement 
Bunyan  received  from  the  Baptists,  he  might  have  lived 
and  died  a  Tinker." 

It  was  not,  however,  because  they  were  Baptists,  but 
because  they  were  serious  Christians  also,  that  they  took 
so  much  interest  in  him.  Any  orthodox  Congregational 
or  Presbyterian  Church  of  that  day,  would  have  treated 
him  with  equal  tenderness.  So  would  pious  Episcopalians, 
had  they  known  him  as  well  as  the  Baptists  did.  I  much 
doubt,  however,  if  any  other  orthodox  body  would  have 
followed  up  his  welcome  into  their  fellowship,  by  calling 
him  out  to  the  ministry.  In  throwing  out  this  passing 
hint,  I  do  not  forget  that  the  Church  at  Bedford  was  not 
ivholli/  a  Baptist  Church.  Its  pastor,  however,  was  a 
Baptist  ;  and  the  majority  seem  to  have  been  the  same. 
But  they  were  not  strict  Baptists.  Bunyan  himself  is  a 
fine  specimen  of  their  spirit.  He  did  not  think  it  necessary 
even  to  mention  his  baptism,  when  he  wrote  for  them,  and 
dedicated  to  them,  his  Auto-biography.  He  passes  by  in 
silence,  his  initiation  in  the  river  Ouse  :  but  in  reference 
to  the  Sacrament  he  exclaims, — "  That  Scripture,  '  Do 
this  in  remembrance  of  Me,*  was  made  a  very  precious 
word  unto  me,  when  I  thought  of  that  blessed  ordinance, 
the  Last  Supper :  for  by  it,  the  Lord  did  come  down  upon 
my  conscience,  with  the  discovery  of  his  death  for  my 
sins."  Even  this  is  not  all  the  singularity  of  his  own 
account  of  his  joining  the  Church :  he  connects  with  the 
Lord's  Supper,  not  with  Baptism,  the  only  word  by  which 
any  one  could  discover  him  to  be  a  Baptist  then,  viz. — 


208  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

"  plunged."     "  I  felt  as  if  he  plunged  me  in  the  virtue  of" 
his  death. 

Is  this  accident  or  design  ?  Whichever  it  may  be,  the 
passage  is  curious.  It  runs  thus  ; — "  The  Lord  did  come 
down  upon  my  conscience  with  the  discovery  of  his  death 
for  my  sins  ;  and,  as  I  then  felt,  plunged  me  in  the  virtue 
of  the  same."  There  seems  to  me  in  this  passage,  an 
intended  use  of  terms  which  should  express  the  views  of 
both  classes  in  his  Church,  on  the  mode  of  baptism  ;  and 
yet  remind  both  at  the  same  time,  that  neither  mode  was 
the  meaning,  or  the  exact  emblem,  of  being  "  buried  with 
Christ  by  baptism  into  death."  I  am  led  to  this  conclusion, 
not  merely  because  I  find  words  equivalent  to  both  immer- 
sion and  pouring,  transferred  from  Baptism  to  the  Lord's 
Supper ;  but  chiefly  because  this  use  of  them  agrees  with 
Bunyan's  doctrinal  theology.  For  although  he  gave  many 
hard  hits  at  those  of  "  the  baptized  way,"  as  he  calls  the 
strict  Baptists,  this  is  not  one  of  them.  It  is  an  illustra- 
tion of  his  favourite  doctrine,  "  That  Jesus  Christ  is  looked 
upon  by  God,  and  should  be  looked  upon  by  us,  as  that 
Public  Person  (or  Representative)  in  whom  the  whole 
body  of  His  elect  are  always  to  be  considered  and  reckoned, 
as  having  died  with  him,  and  risen  from  the  dead  with 
him  ;"  not  when  they  were  baptized,  but  as  Bunyan 
expresses  it,  "  when  He  died  we  died,  and  so  of  His 
resurrection." 

The  Reader  need  not  fear  to  go  through  this  Chapter. 
It  will  not  touch  the  Baptismal  Controversy  ;  but  merely 
bring  out  Bunyan's  opinion  and  spirit,  in  a  light  they  have 
never  been  placed  before.  Ivimey  explains  Bunyan's 
studied  silence,  in  both  the  Pilgrim  and  Grace  Abounding, 
on  the  subject  of  his  baptism,  by  saying,  that  he  made  "  no 
allusion  to  the  event,"  because  **  the  constitution  of  the 
Church  at  Bedford  did  not  consider  baptism  by  immersion, 
upon  a  personal  profession  of  faith,  as  an  essential  requisite 
for  communion  at  the  Lord's  Table."     This  is  true  ;   but 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  209 

it  is  not  half  the  truth.  He  did  not  consider  Baptism  as 
even  an  initiatory  ordinance.  He  reckoned  himself,  as  a 
Believer,  to  have  been  put  to  death,  buried,  and  raised 
again,  with  Christ,  representatively ;  and  thus  as  having  a 
right  to  Church  membership,  before  he  was  baptized.  This 
was  his  cardinal  point ;  and  it  astounded  as  well  as  offended 
those  of  the  *'  water-baptism  way,"  as  he  calls  them.  They 
saw  the  meaning  of  Paul's  doctrine  of  Representation 
chiefly,  if  not  only,  in  baptism.  Bunyan  saw  it  chiefly  in 
the  Lord's  Supper,  because  that  plunged  him  deepest  into 
fellowship  with  the  sufi'erings  and  death  of  Christ. 

Bunyan's  doctrine  of  the  Saviour's  representative  cha- 
racter, although  Paul's,  in  both  its  letter  and  spirit,  is 
almost  obsolete  now ;  and  this  is  not  the  place,  in  which  it 
can  be  revived.  I  once  thought,  indeed,  that  this  was  just 
the  place,  in  which  to  bring  it  out  with  some  effect,  and 
free  from  the  mysticism  of  the  old  writers :  but  I  have  not 
room.  I  regret  this  :  for  practical  dying  and  rising  with 
Christ  will  never  be  sufficiently  bound  upon  the  conscience 
of  Christians,  until  they  see  that  they  were  put  to  death, 
and  laid  in  the  grave,  representatively,  on  the  great  day  of 
Atonement.  For,  all  the  ignominy  and  shame  of  the 
Cross  and  the  Grave,  belong  to  us^  as  much  as  all  the 
agony  and  merit  of  them  belong  to  Christ.  It  was  our 
desert  which  was  exhibited  in  His  sufferings.  He  was 
treated  as  we  deserve  ;  that  we  might  be  treated  as  He 
deserves.  Whoever  will  '*  unloose "  this  Angel  of  tha 
River  of  the  water  of  Life, — the  Pauline  doctrine  of 
Representation  by  both  the  first  and  second  Adam, — will 
both  speed  the  flight  of  "the  mighty  Angel"  of  the  ever- 
lasting gospel,  and  help  to  bind  Satan  up  from  perverting 
the  doctrine  of  original  sin.  This  will  not  be  done, 
however,  by  republishing  Riccalton  on  the  Galatians. 
Even  Luther  mistook  Paul  on  this  point. 

But  to  return  to  Bunyan's  own  baptism.  No  one, 
surely,   can  regret  that  he   was  baptized  by  immersion  ! 

E  E 


210  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

That  was  just  the  mode  calculated  to  impress  him, — 
practised  as  it  usually  was  then  in  rivers.  He  felt  the 
sublimity  of  the  whole  scene  at  the  Ouse,  as  well  as  its 
solemnity.  Gifford's  eye  may  have  realized  nothing  on 
the  occasion,  but  the  meaning  of  the  ordinance  ;  but 
Bunyan  saw  Jordan  in  the  lilied  Ouse,  and  John  the 
Baptist  in  the  holy  Minister,  and  almost  the  Dove  in  the 
jjassing  birds  ;  whilst  the  sun-struck  waters  flashed  around 
and  over  him,  as  if  the  Shechinah  had  descended  upon 
them.  For  let  it  not  be  thought,  that  he  was  indifferent 
about  his  baptism,  because  he  was  indignant  against  strict 
Baptists,  and  laid  more  stress  upon  the  doctrine  it  taught 
than  upon  its  symbolic  significancy.  He  loved  Immersion, 
although  he  hated  the  close  communion  of  the  Baptist 
Churches.  The  fact  is, — and  I  mention  it  with  more  than 
complacency, — he  always  looked  back  upon  this  voluntary 
act  of  obedience  to  Christ,  just  as  those  do  upon  parental 
dedication,  who,  like  myself,  have  the  high  and  hallowed 
consciousness,  that  we  could  not,  by  any  personal  submis 
sion  to  baptism  now,  exceed,  in  faith  or  devotion,  the 
intense  solicitude  of  a  holy  mother,  or  the  solemn  faith  of 
a  godly  father,  who  with  united  hands  and  hearts  baptized 
us  into  the  "  one  body"  of  the  Church  of  their  "  God  and 
our  God."  Bunyan  could  not  look  back  upon  his  baptism 
in  infancy  (if  he  was  baptized  then  ?)  with  either  our 
emotions  or  convictions.  We  think,  therefore,  that  he  did 
wisely  in  being  re-baptized.  I  think  he  did  right  in  pre- 
ferring Immersion  to  sprinkling ;  not,  however,  that  I 
believe  Immersion  to  be  right,  or  Sprinkling  wrong, 
according  to  any  scriptural  rule ;  for  there  is  none ;  but 
because  the  former  suited  his  temperament  best,  inasmuch 
as  it  gave  him  most  to  do,  and  thus  most  to  think  of  and 
feel.  For  that  is  the  best  mode  of  Baptism  to  any  man, 
which  most  absorbs  his  own  mind  with  its  meaning  and 
design ;  now  that  no  man  can  tell  another  (for  God  has 
not  told  us)  what  was  done  by  John  and  the  Apostles,  in 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  211 

the  interval  between  g'oing  down  to  the  water,  and  coming 
up  from  the  water.  Neither  the  going  down,  nor  the 
coming  up,  was  Baptism.  That  was  something  interme- 
diate, and  performed  by  the  Minister.  What, — I  know 
not.  I  respect,  therefore,  equally,  the  man  who  thinks  it 
was  Immersion,  and  the  man  who  thinks  it  was  Sprinkling ; 
because  as  they  are  equally  ignorant  of  the  form,  they  may 
be  equally  sincere.  Let  it  not  be  said,  that  this  is  either 
levity  or  laxness.  I  revere  Baptism,  just  as  I  do  the 
Lord's  Supper,  in  any  form.  It  is  not  in  levity  nor  in 
laxness,  that  some  Churches  sit  and  others  kneel  at  the 
Sacrament ;  and  yet  both  postures  are  a  departure  from 
the  original  position  ;  but  neither  a  departure  from  the 
spirit  of  commemoration.  This  subject  will  come  up  again 
in  the  Chapter  on  Bunyan  and  the  Baptists. 

It  was  not  chiefly  because  GifFord's  Church  had  been 
friendly  to  Bunyan,  nor  because  their  communion  was 
open,  that  Bunyan  preferred  their  fellowship  ;  but  because 
they  were  a  holy  Church.  He  hated  *'  mixed  communion," 
in  the  sense  of  promiscuous,  even  more  than  strict  com- 
munion. "  I  dare  not,"  he  says,  "  hold  communion  with 
them  that  profess  not  faith  and  holiness,  or  that  are  not 
visible  saints  by  calling.  He  that  is  visibly  or  openly  pro- 
fane, cannot  be  a  saint.  He  that  is  a  visible  saint  must 
profess  faith  and  repentance,  and  consequently  (shew) 
holiness  of  life :  and  with  none  else  dare  I  communicate." 
—  Works,  p.  277. 

He  adds,  "  Church-communion  with  the  openly  profane 
and  ungodly,  polluteth  God's  ordinances,  it  violateth  His 
law,  it  defileth  His  people,  and  provoketh  the  Lord  to 
severe  and  terrible  judgments."  Having  proved  this  at 
large  from  both  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  he  flings  to 
the  winds,  with  withering  scorn,  the  pretence,  that  "  the 
openly  profane  have  always  been  in  the  Church  of  God." 
"  They  were  not  such  when  they  were  received  into  com- 
munion," he  says  j   "  and  they  were  only  retained  in  order 


212 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


to  their  admonition ;  and  if  that  failed,  they  were  to  be  cut 
off  from  the  Church,"  or  the  Church  punished  for  harbour- 
ing them. —  Works,  p.  281. 

Such  were  Bunyan's  convictions  of  the  supreme  import- 
ance of  open  and  pure  communion  in  the  Church,  that  he 
said,  after  enduring  eleven  years'  imprisonment  for  Non- 
conformity,— *'  I  dare  not  now  revolt,  nor  deny  them,  on 
the  pain  of  eternal  damnation !  My  principles  lead  me  to 
a  denial  to  communicate  with  the  ungodly  in  the  things  of 
the  kingdom  of  Christ.  Neither  can  I  consent  that  my 
soul  should  be  governed  in  any  of  my  approaches  to  God. 
But  if  nothing  will  do  (for  my  judges)  unless  I  make  my 
conscience  a  continual  butcher i/  and  slaughter-shop  ;  unless, 
putting  out  my  own  eyes,  I  commit  me  to  the  blind  to  lead 
me, — I  have  determined,  the  Almighty  God  being  my  help 
and  shield,  yet  to  suffer  until  even  the  moss  shall  grow  on 
mine  eye-brows,  if  frail  life  continue  so  long,  rather  than 
violate  my  faith  and  principles." — Preface  to  Bunyan^s 
Confession  of  Faith. 

These  winged  words  will  keep  upon  the  wing  for  ever. 
The  Tinker's  protest  against  human  authority  and  worldly 
associations  in  the  Church  of  Christ,  will  maintain  in  that 
Church  a  "  sacramental  host,"  whom  power  can  neither 
crush  nor  coerce,  nor  policy  deceive.  How  true  it  is,  that 
such  "  a  word  spoken  in  season,"  is  a  word  upon  wheels  ! 
Its  wheels  will  go  rolling  down  the  track  of  Time,  without 
oiling,  or  wearing  out.  Nothing  can  stop  them,  nor  turn 
them  out  of  their  course  long.  The  Oxford  Tracts  may 
exalt  the  Sacrament  into  a  Sacrifice,  and  Canon  Law  keep 
open  the  Altar  to  the  clean  and  the  unclean,  for  a  time  ; 
but  Bunyan's  protest  will  outlive  and  outlaw  both.  Bishop 
Pearson's  personal  declaration,  "  I  mean  that  Church  alone 
which  is  both  catholic  and  holy,  when  I  say  '  I  believe  in 
the  Holy  Catholic  Church,'"  will  become  public  opinion 
eventually ;  and  his  definition  of  the  "  Communion  ot 
Saints," — "  that   to   communicate  with  a  sinner   in   that 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  213 

which  is  not  sin  (the  Sacrament),  can  be  no  sin,"  will  not 
pass  long"  for  an  exposition  of  the  Creed. — Pearson  on  the 
Creed.  Fol.  pp.  334,  356.  The  Protestants  of  Britain  will 
soon  think  with  Jeremy  Taylor,  that  "  dijiy  can  boast  of  as 
much  privilege  as  a  wicked  person  can  receive  from  this 
Holy  Feast "  (by  tasting  it)  ;  although  we  may  never  say 
of  it,  in  his  words,  that  "  it  is  more  healthful  than  rhubarb, 
more  pleasant  than  cassia  :  the  botele  and  lareca  of  the 
Indians,  the  moly  or  nepenthe  of  Pliny,  the  lirinon  of  the 
Persians,  the  balsam  of  Judea,  the  manna  of  Israel,  the 
honey  of  Johnathan,  are  but  weak  expressions  to  tell  us, 
that  it  is  excellent  above  art  and  nature." — We  may  not 
speak  in  this  style ;  but  we  shall  think  in  this  spirit ;  and 
re-echo  him  to  the  letter^  when  he  says,  "  All  these  must 
needs  fall  very  short  of  those  plain  words  of  Christ,  *  This 
IS  MY  Body.'  Here  we  must  sit  down  and  rest  ourselves ; 
for  this  *  is  the  Mountain  of  the  Lord*  and  we  can  go 
no  further."  "  This  Holy  Sacrament  is  a  nourishment  of 
spiritual  life  ;  and  therefore  cannot  with  effect  be  ministered 
to  them  who  are  in  a  state  of  spiritual  death.  It  is  giving 
a  cordial  to  a  dead  man :  and,  therefore,  it  were  well  they 
abstained  from  the  rite  itself." —  Taylors  Life  of  Christ. 
Dis.  19.  Bunyan  summed  up  his  own  opinion  of  the 
Sacraments  thus : — 

"  Two  Sacraments,  I  do  believe,  there  be ; 
Even  Baptism  and  the  Supper  of  the  Lord  : 
Both  mysteries  Divine,  which  do  to  me, 
By  God's  appointment,  benefit  afford. 
But  shall  they  be  my  God  ;  or  shall  I  have 
Of  them  so  foul  and  impious  a  thought, 
To  think  that  from  the  Curse  they  can  me  save  ? 
Bread,  Wine,  nor  Water,  me  no  ransom  brought !" 

Bunyan's  Poems. 


214  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

bunyan's  sick  bed. 
1654. 

The  Title  of  this  Chapter  can  hardly  surprise  the  reader. 
The  only  wonder  is,  that  the  facts  of  it  did  not  occur 
sooner.  For  as  Bunyan  was  highly  nervous,  as  well  as 
sensitive,  his  health  was  as  much  endangered  as  his  spirits, 
by  both  the  hot  and  cold  paroxysms  of  his  despair.  Even 
his  happy  moments  were  perilous  to  health  ;  and  will 
remind  Scotchmen  of  the  emphatic  lines  of  one  of  their 
own  poets, 

"  O,  hold  my  head  ! 
"  This  gush  o'  pleasure's  like  to  be  ray  dead." 

He  had,  indeed,  an  iron-frame  ;  and  he  needed  it ;  for  he 
had  a  soul  of  fire.  The  latter,  however,  overheated  the 
former  at  last,  and  for  a  time  seemed  consuming  it. 

The  case  was  this.  The  burning  sensation  at  the  pit  of 
his  stomach,  which  seemed  to  him  calcining,  or  breaking, 
his  breast-bone,  during  the  crisis  of  his  anguish,  was 
followed  by  a  sinking  which  almost  incapacitated  him  for 
business,  when  the  joy  of  deliverance  had  expended  its 
force.  Another  thing  which  hastened  on  his  illness  was, 
the  sudden  revolution  of  his  sacramental  feelings.  They 
had  been,  at  first,  pure  and  pleasing ;  but  they  soon 
assumed  an  opposite  character.  Indeed,  the  transition  was 
tremendous.  He  says,  **  I  had  not  long  been  a  partaker 
of  that  Ordinance,  but  fierce  and  sad  temptations  did  at  aK. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  215 

times  attend  me  therein,  both  to  blaspheme  the  Ordinance 
itself,  and  to  wish  some  dead!?/  things  to  those  who  then 
eat  thereof."  No  wonder  he  called  this  Temptation,  even 
although  there  was  no  "  bait."  He,  accordingly,  treated 
it  as  such ;— not  by  staying  away  from  the  Sacrament,  but 
hy  forcing  himself  "  to  bend  in  prayer  all  the  while,"  lest  he 
should  "  at  any  time  be  guilty  of  consenting  to  these  wicked 
and  fearful  thoughts."  For  "  three  quarters  of  a  year,"  he 
was  haunted  thus,  and  could  "  never  have  rest  nor  ease," 
except  whilst  praying  to  God,  "  to  be  kept  from  such 
blasphemies,"  and  crying  to  Him  "  to  bless  the  Bread  and 
Cup  from  mouth  to  mouth,"  amongst  the  communicants. 

It  was  during  this  distressing  period,  that  symptoms  of 
galloping  Consumption  showed  themselves  about  him.  He 
had  been  "something  inclined  to  consumption"  before; 
but  now,  he  was  "  suddenly  and  violently  seized  with  such 
weakness  in  the  outward  man,"  that  he  thought  he  "  could 
not  live."  At  first,  the  prospect  of  death  did  not  unman 
him.  It  gave  a  turn  to  his  thoughts,  which  made  him 
**  very  well  and  comfortable "  in  his  spirit,  whenever  he 
was  able  to  crawl  out  to  the  Sacrament.  That,  however, 
he  was  soon  unable  to  do.  He,  therefore,  set  himself, 
according  to  his  "  usual  course,"  to  a  serious  examination 
of  his  spiritual  state,  that  he  might  "  keep  his  interest  in 
the  Life  to  come,  clear  before  his  eyes." 

His  own  account  of  the  process  and  result  of  this  self- 
examination,  is  very  affecting :  "I  had  no  sooner  begun 
to  recall  to  mind  my  former  experience  of  the  goodness  of 
God  to  my  soul,  but  there  came  flocking  into  my  mind 
an  innumerable  company  of  my  sins  and  transgressions : 
amongst  which,  these  were  at  this  time  most  to  my  afflic- 
tion ; — my  deadness,  dulness,  and  coldness  in  my  holy 
duties ;  my  wanderings  of  heart,  my  wearisomeness  in  all 
good  things,  my  want  of  love  to  God,  his  ways  and 
people  ; — with  this  at  the  end  of  all,  *  Are  these  ihefridts 
of  Christianity  ?     Are  these  the  tokens  of  a  blessed  man  ?' 


216  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

"  At  the  apprehension  of  these  things,  my  sickness  was 
doubled  upon  me  ;  for  I  was  now  sick  in  my  inward  man. 
My  soul  was  clogged  with  guilt.  Now  also,  all  my  former 
experience  of  God's  goodness  to  me  was  quite  taken  out  of 
my  mind,  and  hid  as  if  it  had  never  been  or  seen.  Now 
was  my  soul  greatly  pinched  between  these  two  con- 
siderations ; — '  Live  I  must  not ;  Die  I  dare  not.'  Now 
I  sunk  and  fell  in  my  spirit,  and  was  giving  up  all  for 
lost. 

"  But  as  I  was  walking  up  and  down  in  my  house,  as  a 
man  in  a  most  woeful  state,  (how  poor  Mrs.  Bunyan  must 
have  watched  and  wept  over  these  successive  scenes  of 
woe !)  that  word  of  God  took  hold  of  my  heart, — '  Ye  are 
justified  freely  by  His  grace,  through  the  redemption  that 
is  in  Christ  Jesus.'  O,  what  a  turn  it  made  upon  me  I 
Now  I  was  as  one  awaked  out  of  some  troublesome  sleep 
and  dream  ;  and  listening  to  this  pleasing  sentence,  I  was 
as  if  I  heard  it  thus  spoken  to  me, — '  Sinner,  thou  thinkest 
that  because  of  thy  sins  and  infirmities,  I  cannot  save  thy 
soul :  but.  Behold,  my  Son  is  by  me,  and  upon  Him  I 
look,  and  not  on  thee ;  and  shall  deal  with  thee  accord- 
ing as  I  am  pleased  with  him.'  At  this,  I  was  greatly 
enlightened  in  my  mind,  and  made  to  understand  that 
God  could  justify  a  sinner  at  any  time,  by  looking  upon 
Christ,  and  imputing  his  merits  to  us ;  and  the  work  was 
forthwith  done ! 

"  And  as  I  was  thus  in  a  muse,  that  scripture  came  with 
great  power  upon  my  spirit,  *  Not  by  works  of  righteous- 
ness that  we  have  done,  but  according  to  His  mercy  he 
saved  us.'  Tit.  iii.  5.  Now  I  was  got  on  high — I  saw 
myself  within  the  arms  of  Grace  and  Mercy !  Though  I 
was  before  afraid  to  think  of  a  dying  hour,  yet  now  I  cried, 
'  Let  me  die.'  Now  death  was  lovely  and  beautiful  in  my 
sight ;  for  I  saw  that  we  shall  never  live  indeed^  till  we  be 
gone  to  the  other  world.  O,  methought,  this  life  is  but  a 
slumber^  in  comparison  with  that  above ! 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  217 

"  At  this  time  also,  I  saw  more  than  I  shall  ever  be  able 
to  express,  while  I  live  in  this  world,  in  these  words, — 
*  Heirs  of  God*  Heirs  of  God  !  himself  then  is  the  portion 
of  the  saints.  This  I  saw  and  wondered  at  j  but  cannot 
tell  you  what  I  saw." 

This  lasted  with  him  until  a  severer  fit  of  his  illness  and 
weakness  set  him  upon  another  review  of  his  state  before 
God  :  and  although  the  process  and  the  result  of  this 
second  scrutiny  of  his  heart  be  much  the  same  as  the  pre- 
ceding, they  both  deserve  to  be  recorded,  because  they 
help  to  explain  that  apparent  anomaly  in  the  Pilgrim, — 
the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  at  midway  in 
Christian's  journey.  This  is  not  fully  explained  by  what 
Bunyan  felt,  when  Justice  Keeling  (Jefferies'  jackaV)  told 
him  "  plainly,  he  must  stretch  by  the  neck  for  it'*  if  he  did 
not  submit  to  the  Laws.  That  threatening  made  him  taste 
"  the  bitterness  of  death "  in  the  midst  of  life ;  and  was 
thus  one  reason  for  placing  the  Valley  midway  in  the 
pilgrimage.  But  it  was  not  the  chief  reason.  He  was  not 
then  in  such  "  bondage  to  the  fear  of  death,"  as  we  now 
find  him.  Ivimey  has  illustrated  this  distinction  with  much 
ingenuity,  although  with  some  confusion,  in  his  Notes  to 
the  Pilgrim's  Progress.  Bunyan  was  not  so  free  from  all 
"  distress  of  soul  respecting  his  future  salvation,"  whilst  he 
was  "  a  young  prisoner "  at  Bedford,  as  Ivimey  thought. 
Still  "  the  sorrows  of  death "  although  bitter  then,  were 
not  so  lasting  as  now,  "  I  find,"  he  says,  "  that  Satan  is 
much  for  assaulting  the  soul,  when  it  begins  to  approach 
towards  the  grave.  He  did  now  beset  me  strongly ; 
labouring  to  hide  from  me  my  former  experience  of 
God's  goodness :  also  setting  before  me  the  Terrors  of 
death  and  judgment,  insomuch  that,  through  my  fear  of 
miscarrying  for  ever,  (should  I  row  die) — I  was  as  one 
dead  before  death,  and  as  if  I  felt  myself  already  descending 
into  the  pit.  Methought,  I  said,  there  was  no  way — but 
to  Hell  I  must!" 

F  F 


218  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

No  wonder  Bunyan  placed  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of 
Death,  in  the  midst  of  Christian's  pilg-rimag-e !  Besides, 
Christian  is — himself.  By  remembering-  this,  his  deliver- 
ances from  death  and  the  fear  of  death,  at  this  time,  will 
explain  the  Pilgrim's  song-, 

"  But  since  I  live,  let  Jesus  wear  the  Crown." 

"  Just  as  I  was  in  the  midst  of  those  fears,"  he  says,  "  the 
words  about  the  angels  carrying  Lazarus  into  Abraham's 
bosom,  darted  in  upon  me,  as  if  one  said, — *  So  it  shall  be 
with  thee,  when  thou  dost  leave  the  world.'  This  did 
sweetly  revive  my  spirits,  and  help  me  to  hope  in  God. 
And  when  I  had  with  comfort  mused  on  this  awhile,  that 
Word  fell  with  great  weight  upon  my  mind,  *  O  Death, 
where  is  thy  sting  ;  O  Grave,  where  is  thy  victory  ?' " 

The  effect  of  this  strong  consolation  was  as  great  upon 
his  body,  as  upon  his  spirits.  "  I  became  well  in  both 
body  and  mind,"  he  says,  "  at  once  :  for  my  sickness  did 
presently  vanish,  and  I  walked  comfortably  in  my  work 
for  God  again."  This  is  not  so  strange  as  it  appears  at 
first  sight.  His  illness  had  been  brought  on  by  long  mental 
anguish,  and  had  been  aggravated  even  by  his  intervals  of 
joy,  because  they  were  extatic,  if  not  extravagant  before  : 
but  this  joy  was  a  perfect  anodyne,  that  "  sweetly  revived 
his  spirits,"  and  just  "  helped  him  to  hope."  There  was 
thus  no  excitement  from  surprise  or  rapture ;  but  all  was 
sweet  and  soothing  whilst  it  lasted. 

His  recovery  was  now  rapid  and  steady.  It  seems  to 
have  had  but  one  interruption,  and  that  arose  from  his 
mind  again.     Another 

•'  Change  came  o'er  his  spirit."' 

"  I  had  been  pretty  well  and  savoury  in  my  spirit,"  he 
says,  "  yet  suddenly  there  fell  upon  me  a  great  cloud  of 
darkness,  which  did  so  hide  from  me  the  things  of  God 
and  Christ, — that  I  was  as  if  I  had  never  seen  or  known 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  219 

tliem  in  my  life.  I  was  also  so  overrun  in  my  soul  with  a 
senseless,  heartless,  frame  of  spirit,  that  I  could  not  feel  my 
soul  to  move  or  stir  after  grace  and  life  by  Christ.  I  was 
as  if  my  bones  were  broken,  or  as  if  my  hands  and  feet 
were  tied  or  bound  with  chains.  I  felt  at  this  time  some 
weakness  seize  upon  my  outward  man,  which  made  the 
other  affliction  the  more  heavy  and  uncomfortable  to  me. 

"  After  I  had  been  in  this  condition  three  or  four  days, 
as  I  was  sitting  by  the  fire  (it  was  now  Spring)  I  suddenly 
felt  this  Word  sound  in  my  heart, — '  I  must  go  to  Jesus  /' 
At  this,  my  former  darkness  and  atheism  fled  away,  and 
the  blessed  things  of  Heaven  were  set  in  my  view."  He 
could  not,  however,  find  the  words  which  thus  cheered 
him.  I  am  not  sorry  that  his  memory  failed  him  for  a 
moment.  We  get  a  glimpse  of  his  wife  again,  whilst  it  is 
at  fault.  "  Wife,"  he  said,  "  is  there  ever  such  a  scrip- 
ture,— *  I  must  go  to  Jesus  ?' "  He  would  not  have 
appealed  to  her  thus  fondly  and  familiarly,  if  she  had  been 
unacquainted  with  her  Bible.  "  She  said,  she  could  not 
tell."  No  wonder ;  the  words  as  he  quoted  them  are  not 
in  the  Scriptures.  The  idea  floating  in  his  mind,  was 
drawn  from  that  sublime  passage  in  the  Hebrews,  xii.  22  ; 
"  Ye  are  come  to  Mount  Sion,  and  to  Jesus,  the  Mediator 
of  the  new  covenant." 

After  musing  *'  two  or  three  minutes,  it  came  bolting 
upon  him,"  he  says,  "and  Mount  Sign  was  set  before" 
his  eyes.  A  fine  vision  it  must  have  been !  Brighter  to 
him  than  Carmel  to  the  Prophet,  when  it  was  encircled 
and  enshrined  with  horses  and  chariots  of  fire.  His  was 
just  the  eye  to  catch  the  vision  of 

"  The  Mount  of  God," 

as  it  stands  crowned  with  the  eternal  city,  and  crowded 
with  the  General  Assembly  of  saints  and  angels,  and 
irradiated  with  the  glory  of  the  Lamb.  "  With  joy,"  he 
says,  "  I  told  my  wife  j  O  !    now  I  know,   I  know !     I 


220  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

longed  also  for  the  company  of  some  of  God's  people,  that 
I  might  have  imparted  to  them  what  God  had  showed  me. 
That  was  a  good  night  to  me.  I  never  had  many  better. 
Christ  was  precious  to  my  soul  that  night.  I  could  scarce 
lie  in  my  bed  for  joy,  and  peace,  and  triumph,  through 
Christ.  This  great  glory  did  continue  upon  me  until 
the  morning.  It  was  a  blessed  scripture  to  me  for  many 
days  together  after  this." 

Bunyan  did  not  forget  this  vision  of  Mount  Sion,  when 
he  wrote  his  Pilgrim.  His  Shining  Ones  tell  Christian 
and  Hopeful,  just  what  he  has  told  us  ;  and  these  Pilgrims 
ascend  Mount  Sion  just  as  his  own  thoughts  did,  '*  with 
agility  and  speed,  although  it  was  higher  than  the  clouds." 
Indeed,  except  the  Trumpeters,  who  "  made  the  heavens 
to  echo  with  melodious  noises  and  loud,"  the  whole  scene 
was  present  to  him  on  this  occasion.  This  will  hardly  be 
wondered  at  when  his  own  account  of  the  process  of  dis- 
covery is  read. 

"  The  words  are  these,"  he  says,  "  '  Ye  are  come  to 
Mount  Sion,  to  the  city  of  the  living  God,  to  the  heavenly 
Jerusalem,  and  to  an  innumerable  company  of  angels,  to 
the  general  assembly  and  church  of  the  first-born,  which 
are  written  in  heaven ;  to  God  the  Judge  of  all,  and  to 
the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect,  and  to  Jesus  the 
Mediator  of  the  New  Testament,  and  to  the  blood  of 
sprinkling,  that  speaketh  better  things  than  that  of  Abel.* 
Through  this  sentence  the  Lord  led  me  over  and  over 
again  ;  first  to  this  word,  and  then  to  that :  and  shewed 
me  wonderful  glory  in  every  one  of  them.  These  words 
also  have  oft  since  that  time  been  great  refreshment  to 
my  spirit." 

He  refreshed  others,  and  especially  his  fellow  Prisoners, 
by  them  at  a  future  day :  for  it  was  the  vivid  recollection 
of  what  he  now  saw  in  them,  that  enabled  him  to  pour  out 
that  unpremeditated  commentary  on  the  Heavenly  Jeru- 
salem, which  he  afterwards  published  under  the  title  of 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  '  221 

"  The  Holy  City."  The  history  of  that  remarkable  work 
(which  was  a  special  favourite  with  himself,  because  oi 
*' the  Jasper-light^^  in  which  it  shone  out  upon  him  sud- 
denly, when  he  thought  he  could  not  speak  "  so  much  as 
five  words  of  truth "),  will  be  found  in  the  Chapter  of  his 
Prison  Thoughts. 

This  season  of  affliction  was  useful  to  Bimyan.  It 
brought  his  best  affections,  as  well  as  his  best  powers,  into 
full  operation.  He  said,  in  reference  to  it,  "  the  Incense 
was  to  be  bruised,  and  so  to  be  burned  in  the  Censer. 
Sweet  gums  and  spices  cast  their  fragrant  scent  into  the 
nostrils  of  man,  when  beaten :  and  the  heart,  when  beaten 
and  bruised,  casts  its  sweet  smell  into  the  nostrils  of  God." 
—  Works,  p.  543.  He  meant  himself,  also,  when  he  said 
of  David,  "  He  knew  what  it  was  to  hang  over  the  mouth 
of  Hell,  and  to  have  Death  pulling  him  down  into  the 
Pit.  This  he  saw,  to  the  breaking  of  his  heart.  His  relief, 
therefore,  made  him  a  thankful  man !  And  if  a  man  who 
has  had  a  leg  broken,  is  made  to  understand  that  hj 
breaking  of  that,  he  was  kept  from  breaking  his  neck,  he 
will  be  thankful  to  God  for  a  broken  leg." —  Works,  p.  547. 
Agreeably  to  these  maxims,  Bunyan  was  thankful  for  his 
visit  to  the  gates  of  death. 


222  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

BUNYAN*S    CALL    TO    THE    MINISTRY. 
16.56. 

If  either  the  consciousness  of  mental  power,  or  the  com- 
mand of  intelligible  and  terse  modes  of  expressing-  his 
religious  thoughts  and  feelings,  could  have  encouraged 
Bunyan  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  others,  he  would  have 
begun  to  do  so  when  he  regretted  that  the  Crows  did  not 
understand  him.  If,  again,  example  could  have  tempted 
him  to  "expose  his  gifts"  (according  to  the  phrase  and 
fashion  of  his  times)  he  might  have  commenced  when  he 
liked,  without  being  sent  or  sanctioned  by  any  church :  for 
(as  Dr.  Chalmers  told  the  Christian  Influence  Society,  in 
his  Presbyterian  Lectures  in  aid  of  Episcopacy)  *'  the 
mystic  superiority  arrogated  by  domineering  Churchmen, 
who  claim  for  themselves  (to  the  exclusion  of  all  others  '  as 
beyond  the  pale ')  the  immaculate  descent  of  a  pure  and 
apostolic  ordination,"  had  rendered  ordination  a  bye-word 
in  the  Army ;  and  taught  hosts  of  better  men  to  say  with 
Chalmers,  "  We  disclaim  all  aid  from  anv  such  factitious 
argument ; — an  argument  which  could  have  been  of  no 
avail  against  the  Popery  we  rejected,  and  should  be  of  as 
little  avail  against  (other)  denominations  of  Protestantism." 
—  Chalmers'  Last  Lecture. 

Bunyan  had,  however,  an  overwhelming  dread  of  the 
ministry ;  not  merely  because  he  was  alive  to  its  solemn 
responsibilities,  and  to  his  own  lack  of  knowledge,  but 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  223 

chiefly  because  he  could  not  appropriate  to  himself  the 
Salvation  he  wished  to  proclaim  to  others.  He  was  thus 
as  much  awed  at  the  bare  idea  of  entering  the  ministry  of 
the  Church  on  earth,  as  a  reflecting"  man  is,  in  the  imme- 
diate prospect  of  taking  a  part  in  the  service  of  the  Church 
in  heaven.  We  must  both  remember  and  realize  this^  if 
we  would  either  understand  Bunyan,  or  sympathize  with 
him,  at  this  point  of  his  history, 

Now  we  do  not  wonder  at  all,  that  a  very  great  change 
must  take  place  upon  both  the  heart  and  conscience  of 
even  the  holiest  christians  at  death,  before  they  can  serve 
or  enjoy  God  in  heaven  ;  for  there,  His  servants  serve 
Him  day  and  night  without  weariness  or  dread.  Such 
untiring  and  cheerful  service  is  natural  to  Angels.  There 
is  nothing  in  their  nature  or  history,  to  hinder  it.  Their 
spirit  was  never  unfit,  nor  reluctant,  nor  afraid,  to  see  or 
to  serve  God,  face  to  face.  They  have  thus  no  painful 
recollections  of  the  past,  and  no  fears  as  to  the  future. 
They  can  look  back  upon  their  whole  life  without  one 
blush  of  shame,  or  one  sigh  of  regret ;  and  forward  through 
Eternity,  without  one  suspicion.  It  is,  however,  just  as 
true  of  the  human  spirits  in  Heaven,  as  of  the  angelic,  that 
they  too  serve  God  without  weariness  or  dread.  Their 
power  and  composure  to  do  so  arise,  indeed,  from  other 
and  widely  difl'erent  causes :  but  they  have  both  power  and 
composure  to  equal  the  Angels  in  duty  and  delight. 

It  is,  I  grant,  easier  to  believe  this  of  others,  than  to 
realize  it  for  ourselves.  We  can  hardly  conceive  how  we 
could  be  able,  for  ages,  to  look  up,  at  all,  before  the  Eternal 
Throne,  even  if  Angels  conveyed,  or  old  Friends  welcomed 
us,  into  heaven.  We  feel,  when  we  think  of  seeing  God 
and  the  Lamb  face  to  face,  as  if  we  should  like  to  look  at 
them  first,  from  "  the  bordeis  of  Emanuel's  land."  We 
are  so  sure,  that  the  "  great  sight "  must  remind  us  of  the 
long  time  during  which,  and  the  low  reasons  for  which,  we 
lived  without  God,  and  without  Christ,  in  the  world, — 


224  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

that  we  cannot  help  feeling  as  if  we  could  not  bear  the 
sight  at  once ;  but  as  if  it  must  overwhelm  us  with  shame 
and  confusion  of  face.  Thus  so  far  as  we  can  judge  at 
present,  we  should  prefer,  when  we  enter  Heaven,  to  creep 
out  of  sight  for  a  time ;  or  to  dwell  alone  in  some  retired 
spot  amongst  the  hills  of  Immortality,  until  we  could 
collect  our  thoughts,  and  compose  our  spirits,  and  be 
somewhat  prepared  to  approach  the  Throne :  for  it  seems 
impossible  now,  that  we  could  wear  a  crown  of  glory,  or 
wave  a  palm  of  victory,  or  use  a  golden  harp,  at  once,  or 
even  soon.  Accordingly,  the  only  thing  we  can  realize  as 
within  the  utmost  reach  of  our  power,  whilst  Heaven  is  all 
new  to  us,  is,  that  we  might  just  be  able  to  sit  down  in  the 
mansion  of  some  of  our  old  friends,  and  after  recovering 
from  our  surprise  take  lessons  from  them  on  the  duties  of 
heaven. 

I  will  not  ask,  why  we  feel  thus  when  we  think  of 
entering  into  the  presence,  and  upon  the  service,  of  God 
in  heaven.  We  cannot  help  feeling  thus  intimidated,  when 
we  think  thus  distinctly.  Now  it  is  quite  possible  to  be 
thus  intimidated  at  the  service  of  God  on  earth.  Bunyan 
felt  for  a  long  time,  as  unfit  for  it,  and  as  unworthy  of  it, 
as  we  can  do  in  regard  to  the  engagements  and  enjoy- 
ments of  heaven.  The  question  of  permission,  welcome, 
and  ability,  to  serve  God  acceptably,  gravelled  him  far 
more  than  the  question  of  time,  trouble,  or  convenience. 
He  was  not  unwilling  to  serve,  at  any  expense  of  time  or 
trouble.  His  difficulty  was,  to  see  how  he  could  be  allowed 
to  serve  God,  as  God  requires  to  be  served ;  in  the  spirit 
of  adoption,  or  with  filial  love  and  godly  fear.  He  saw 
clearly  that  slavish  or  forced  obedience  would  not  be 
acceptable  ;  and  he  felt,  although  willing  to  obey  from  the 
heart,  that  he  was  unable  to  shake  off  the  spirit  of  bondage, 
or  of  fear.  He  felt  this  long,  even  in  regard  to  the  private 
duties  of  godliness.  He  shrunk  back  from  Baptism  and 
the  Sacrament,   for  years,   lest  he   should  presume.     No 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  225 

wonder,  therefore,  that  he  was  timid  as  well  as  modest, 
when  his  friends  urged  him  to  preach  the  faith  he  had  once 
blasphemed.  Like  Paul,  he  exclaimed  with  amazement, 
**  putting-  me  into  the  ministry,  who  was  before  a  blas- 
phemer !"  This  consideration,  far  more  than  his  mean 
rank  or  education,  overpowered  him,  even  whilst  he  was 
rejoicing  in  the  hope  of  eternal  life,  when  his  friends  called 
upon  him  to  preach  the  Gospel.  They  chose,  however,  a 
good  time,  for  making  their  appeal  to  him.  He  had 
recovered  both  his  health  and  spirits ;  and  GifFord  was  just 
dead. 

Bunyan  s  face  might  have  slione^  like  that  of  Moses, 
with  the  glory  of  joy  and  peace,  when  he  came  down 
from  the  Mount  of  Vision,  and  mingled  again  with  the 
congregation.  They  "  took  knowledge  of  him  that  he  had 
been  with  Jesus,"  and  reckoned  him  fit  for  the  ministry. 
His  oldest  Biographer,  who  knew  him  well,  says,  "  He 
had  been  but  a  few  years  a  member  of  the  Congregation, 
when  his  promptness  in  prayer,  and  in  the  Scriptures,  gave 
the  people  hopes  that  he  would  be  one  day — what  he 
proved.  And  therefiare  they,  at  a  private  meeting,  desired 
him  to  expose  his  talent  in  edifying  the  people  ;  which  he 
very  modestly  declined,"  at  first.  This  quotation  both 
illustrates  and  confirms  Dr.  Southey's  remark,  that  "  Bun- 
yan was  not  one  of  those  enthusiasts  who  thrust  themselves 
forward  in  confident  reliance  upon  what  they  suppose  to 
be  an  inward  call."  Bunyan  deserves  this  tribute,  what- 
ever it  mean ;  and,  in  regard  to  him,  it  means  all  that  is 
honourable.  At  whose  expense^  however,  is  it  paid  to  him  ? 
An  inward  call,  and  that  from  the  Holy  Ghost,  is  put 
forward  by  all  candidates  for  holy  orders.  Are  they  there- 
fore, all  enthusiasts?  This  is  not  what  is  meant.  The 
reference  must,  therefore,  be  to  Methodists  and  Dissenters  ; 
and  so  far  as  Mawworms,  or  men  grossly  ignorant,  are 
allowed  to  thrust  themselves  forward  amongst  them,  let 
them  bear  the  blame.     The  inward  call  of  a  man  destitute 

G  G 


226  LIFE    OF    BUNYA'N. 

of  common  sense,  is  as  great  an  absurdity,  although  not  so 
great  an  impiety,  as  the  pretences  of  clerical  sportsmen  to 
be  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost. 

By  what  infatuation  is  ridicule  kept  up  against  an 
inward  call,  whilst  the  Ordination  Service  is  based  upon 
the  necessity  and  reality  of  a  Divine  movement  ?  Either 
that  Service  should  be  altered,  or  this  sneer  abandoned. 
Or  if  it  be  desirable  to  keep  the  finger  of  scorn  pointed  at 
empty-headed  novices,  why  then,  let  the  whole  hand,  yea 
both  hands,  of  scorn,  be  pointed  at  the  empty-hearted 
scholars,  who  have  nothing  but  scholarship  to  qualify  them 
for  holy  orders  ;  and  thus  let  none  have  the  moral  benefit 
of  a  sacred  name,  but  those, — and  happily  they  are  not  few 
nor  feeble  in  the  Episcopalian  Church  now, — who  accredit 
and  adorn  that  name,  by  holy  character  and  faithful 
preaching. 

Bunyan's  own  account  of  his  call  to  the  ministry  is  very 
interesting.  He  says,  "  And  now  I  am  speaking  of  my 
experience,  I  will  in  this  place  thrust  in  a  word  or  two  con- 
cerning my  preaching  the  Word,  and  God's  dealing  with 
me  in  that  particular  also. 

"  After  I  had  been  about  five  or  six  years  awakened, 
and  helped  to  see  for  myself  both  the  want  and  worth  of 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  also  enabled  to  venture  my  soul 
upon  him, — some  of  the  most  able  among  the  saints  with 
us  (I  say  the  most  able  for  judgment  and  holiness  of  life) 
did  perceive,  as  they  conceived,  that  God  had  counted  me 
worthy  to  understand  something  of  his  will  in  his  holy  and 
blessed  Word,  and  had  given  me  utterance  to  express,  in 
some  measure,  what  I  saw,  to  others,  for  edification : 
therefore  they  desired  me — and  that  with  much  earnest- 
ness, that  I  would  be  willing,  at  some  times  to  take  in 
hand,  in  one  of  the  meetings,  to  speak  a  word  of  exhorta- 
tion unto  them. 

*'  The  wliich,  though  at  the  first  it  did  much  dash  and 
abash    my    spirit,    yet    being   still    by    them    desired    and 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


227 


entreated,  I  consented  to  their  request,  and  did  twice  at 
two  several  assemblies  (but  in  private),  though  with  much 
weakness  and  infirmity,  discover  my  gift  amongst  them  ; 
at  which  they  not  only  seemed  to  be,  but  did  frequently 
protest,  as  in  the  sight  of  the  great  God,  they  were  both 
affected  and  comforted ;  and  gave  thanks  to  the  Father  of 
mercies,  for  the  grace  bestowed  on  me. 

"  After  this,  sometimes,  when  some  of  them  did  go  into 
the  country  to  teach,  they  would  also  that  I  should  go  with 
them  ;  where,  though,  as  yet,  I  did  not,  nor  durst  not, 
make  use  of  my  gift  in  an  ope)i  way,  yet  more  privately, 
still,  as  I  came  amongst  the  good  people  in  those  places,  I 
did  sometimes  speak  a  word  of  admonition  unto  them  also  ; 
the  which  they,  as  the  other,  received  with  rejoicing  at  the 
mercy  of  God  to  me-ward,  professing  their  souls  were 
edified  thereby. 

"  Wherefore  to  be  brief,  at  last,  being  still  desired  by 
the  church,  after  some  solemn  prayer  to  the  Lord,  with 
fasting,  I  was  more  particularly  called  forth,  and  appointed 
to  a  more  ordinary  and  public  preaching  of  the  word,  not 
only  to  and  amongst  them  that  believed,  but  also  to  offer 
the  Gospel  to  those  who  had  not  yet  received  the  faith 
thereof." 

It  appears  from  a  note  of  Ivimey,  that  seven  other 
members  of  the  Church  were  called  forth  along  with 
Bunyan.  One  of  them,  Nehemiah  Coxe,  was  the  grand- 
son of  a  Bishop  ;  and  although  a  Cordwainer,  a  scholar. 
Accordingly,  when  he,  like  Bunyan,  came  to  be  tried  at 
Bedford  assizes  for  preaching,  he  pleaded  first  in  Greek, 
and  then  in  Hebrew.  The  Judge  was  astounded,  and 
called  for  the  Indictment.  In  that,  Coxe  was  styled  a 
Cordwainer.  The  Judge  told  him,  that  none  of  the 
Lawyers  could  answer  him.  Coxe  claimed,  however,  his 
right  to  plead  in  whatever  language  he  pleased.  It  is 
said,  he  escaped  by  this ;  and  that  the  Judge  enjoyed  the 
discomfiture  of  the  Lawyers.     Report  adds,  that  he  said 


228  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

to  them  as  Coxe  left  the  court,  "  Well,  Gentlemen,  this 
Cordwainer  has  wound  you  all  up."  I  refer  to  this 
anecdote,  because  it  was  probably  from  Coxe  that  Bunyan 
picked  up  the  few  Latin  words  and  classical  allusions, 
which  appear  in  some  of  his  writings. 

It  deserves  notice  here,  that  Bunyan,  in  yielding  to  the 
urgency  of  his  friends,  and  venturing  to  preach,  had  more 
than  timidity  to  contend  against.  They  saw  nothing  else  ; 
but  he  felt  more.  "  I  was  at  that  time,"  he  says,  "  most 
sorely  afflicted  with  the  fiery  darts  of  the  devil,  concerning 
my  eternal  state."  Accordingly,  he  often  preached  hope 
to  others,  when  he  himself  was  all  but  despairing ;  and 
carried  in  his  own  conscience  the  Jire  he  warned  them  to 
flee  from.  This  was  more  heroic  than  Darracot's  preach- 
ing, whilst  his  children  lay  dead  at  home.  He  said  to 
Whitefield,  "  weeping  must  not  stop  sowing."  Bunyan 
said  to  himself,  "  the  fear  of  wrath  must  not  stop  duty." 

But  he  has  told  his  own  story ;  and  those  will  read  it, 
who  wish  to  understand  the  workings  of  a  ministerial 
mind.  Bunyan's  alternations  of  hope  and  fear,  are  not 
uncommon. 

"  But  yet  I  could  not  be  content,  unless  I  was  found  in 
the  exercise  of  my  gift,  unto  which  also  I  was  greatly 
animated,  not  only  by  the  continual  desires  of  the  godly, 
but  also  by  that  saying  of  Paul  to  the  Corinthians ;  *  I 
beseech  you  brethren  (ye  know  the  household  of  Stephanas, 
that  it  is  the  first  fruits  of  Achaia,  and  that  they  have 
addicted  themselves  to  the  ministry  of  the  saints),  that  ye 
submit  yourselves  unto  such,  and  to  every  one  that  helpeth 
with  us  and  laboureth.'    1  Cor.  xvi.  15. 

"  By  this  text  I  was  made  to  see  that  the  Holy  Ghost 
never  intended  that  men  who  have  gifts  and  abilities, 
should  bury  them  in  the  earth,  but  rather  did  command 
and  stir  up  such  to  the  exercise  of  their  gift,  and  also  did 
commend  those  that  were  apt  and  ready  so  to  do.  "  They 
have  addicted  themselves  to  the  ministry  of  the  saints." 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  229 

This  scripture  in  these  days,  did  continually  run  in  my 
mind,  to  encourage  me,  and  strengthen  me  in  this  my 
work  for  God ;  I  have  also  been  encouraged  from  several 
other  scriptures  and  examples  of  the  godly,  both  specified 
in  the  Word  and  other  ancient  histories  ('  Fox's  Acts  and 
Monuments ').  '  Therefore  they  that  were  scattered  abroad 
went  every  where  preaching  the  Word. — And  a  certain 
Jew  named  Apollos,  born  at  Alexandria,  an  eloquent  man 
and  mighty  in  the  Scriptures,  came  to  Ephesus.  This  man 
was  instructed  in  the  way  of  the  Lord,  and  being  fervent 
in  the  spirit  he  spake  and  taught  diligently  the  things  of 
the  Lord.  Having  then  gifts  differing  according  to  the 
grace  that  is  given  to  us,  whether  prophecy,  let  us  prophecy 
according  to  the  proportion  of  faith  ;  or  ministry,  let  us 
wait  on  our  ministering ;  or  he  that  teacheth  on  teaching ; 
or  he  that  exhorteth  on  exhortation.' 

"  Wherefore,  though  of  myself  of  all  the  saints  the  most 
unworthy,  yet  I,  but  with  great  fear  and  trembling  at  the 
sight  of  my  own  weakness,  did  set  upon  the  work,  and  did 
according  to  my  gift,  and  the  proportion  of  my  faith, 
preach  that  blessed  gospel  that  God  had  showed  me  in  the 
holy  word  of  truth :  which  when  the  country  understood, 
they  came  in  to  hear  the  Word  by  hundreds,  and  that  from 
all  parts,  though  upon  divers  and  sundry  accounts. 

"  And  I  thank  God,  he  gave  unto  me  some  measure  of 
bowels  and  pity  for  their  souls,  which  also  did  put  me 
forward  to  labour,  with  great  diligence  and  earnestness, 
to  find  out  such  a  word  as  might,  if  God  would  bless  it, 
lay  hold  of,  and  awaken  the  conscience,  in  which  also  the 
good  Lord  had  respect  to  the  desire  of  his  servant ;  for  I 
had  not  preached  long,  before  some  began  to  be  touched, 
and  be  greatly  afflicted  in  their  minds  at  the  apprehension 
of  the  greatness  of  their  sin,  and  of  their  need  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

"  But  I  first  could  not  believe  that  God  should  speak  by 
me  to  the  heart  of  any  man,  still  counting  myself  unworthy; 


230 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


yet  those  who  were  thus  touched,  would  love  me  and  have 
a  particular  respect  for  me  ;  and  though  I  did  put  it  from 
me,  that  they  should  be  awakened  by  me,  still  they  would 
confess  it,  and  affirm  it  before  the  saints  of  God.  They 
would  also  bless  God  for  me  (unworthy  wretch  that  I 
am !)  and  count  me  God's  instrument  that  showed  to 
them  the  way  of  salvation. 

"  Wherefore  seeing  them  in  both  their  words  and  deeds 
to  be  so  constant,  and  also  in  their  hearts  so  earnestly 
pressing  after  the  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ,  rejoicing 
that  ever  God  did  send  me  where  they  were  ;  then  I  began 
to  conclude  it  might  be  so,  that  God  had  owned  in  his 
work  such  a  foolish  one  as  I ;  and  then  came  that  word  of 
God  to  my  heart,  with  much  sweet  refreshment,  *  The 
blessing  of  them  that  were  ready  to  perish,  is  come  upon 
me  ;  yea  I  caused  the  widow's  heart  to  sing  for  joy.* 

"  At  this  therefore  I  rejoiced  ;  yea  the  tears  of  those 
whom  God  did  awaken  by  my  preaching,  would  be  both 
solace  and  encouragement  to  me.  I  thought  on  those 
sayings,  *  Who  is  he  that  maketh  me  glad  but  the  same  that 
is  made  sorry  by  me  ?'  And  again,  *  Though  I  be  not  an 
Apostle  to  others,  yet  doubtless,  I  am  unto  you :  for  the 
seal  of  my  apostleship  are  ye  in  the  Lord.'  These  things 
therefore,  were  as  another  argument  unto  me,  that  God 
had  called  me  to,  and  stood  by  me  in  this  work. 

"  In  my  preaching  of  the  Word,  I  took  special  notice  of 
this  one  thing,  namely,  that  the  Lord  did  lead  me  to  begin 
where  his  Word  begins  with  sinners ;  that  is,  to  condemn 
all  flesh,  and  to  open  and  allege,  that  the  curse  of  God  by 
the  law,  doth  belong  to,  and  lay  hold  on  all  men  as  they 
come  into  the  world,  because  of  sin.  Now  this  part  of  my 
work  I  fulfilled  with  great  sense ;  for  the  terrors  of  the 
law,  and  guilt  for  my  transgressions,  lay  heavy  on  my 
conscience :  I  preached  what  I  felt,  what  I  smartingly  did 
feel ;  even  that  under  which  my  poor  soul  did  groan  and 
tremble  to  astonishment." 


LIFE    OF    BUNYA>f.  231 

"  Indeed  I  have  been  as  one  sent  to  tliem  from  the 
dead  ;  I  went  myself  in  chains,  to  preach  to  them  in 
chains ;  and  carried  that  fire  in  my  own  conscience,  that  I 
persuaded  them  to  be  aware  of.  I  can  truly  say,  and  that 
without  dissembling-,  that  when  I  have  been  to  preach,  I 
have  gone  full  of  guilt  and  terror  even  to  the  pulpit-door, 
and  there  it  hath  been  taken  off,  and  I  have  been  at  liberty 
in  my  mind  until  I  have  done  my  work  ;  and  then  imme- 
diately, even  before  I  could  get  down  the  pulpit-stairs,  I 
have  been  as  bad  as  I  was  before  ;  yet  God  carried  me  on, 
but  surely  with  a  strong  hand,  for  neither  guilt  nor  hell 
could  take  me  off  my  work. 

"  Thus  I  went  on  for  the  space  of  two  years,  crying  out 
against  men's  sins,  and  their  fearful  state  because  of  them. 
After  which,  the  Lord  came  in  upon  my  own  soul,  with 
some  sure  peace  and  comfort  through  Christ ;  for  he  did 
give  me  many  sweet  discoveries  of  his  blessed  grace 
through  him  :  wherefore  now  I  altered  in  my  preaching 
(for  still  I  preached  what  I  saw  and  felt),  now  therefore  I 
did  much  labour  to  hold  forth  Jesus  Christ  in  all  his  offices, 
relations,  and  benefits  unto  the  world,  and  did  strive  also 
to  discover,  to  condemn,  and  remove  those  false  supports 
and  props  on  which  the  world  doth  both  lean,  and  by  them 
fall  and  perish.  On  these  things  also  I  staid  as  long  as  on 
the  other." 


232  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

BUNYAN  AND  THE  QUAKERS. 
1656. 

In  reading-  this  chapter,  it  will  be  as  useless  to  remember, 
as  it  is  impossible  to  forget,  the  present  form  of  the  Quaker 
controversy.  The  Quakers  who  assailed  Bunyan,  and 
those  who  were  assailed  by  him,  must  be  estimated  here, 
by  what  they  did  and  said  then,  and  not  by  the  saying-s  or 
doings  of  the  Society  of  Friends  now.  It  was  not  with 
Hicksites,  Tukites,  nor  Gurneyites,  Bunyan  had  to  deal. 
His  opponents  had  none  of  Hicks'  scepticism,  and  but 
little  of  Tuke's  prudence,  and  still  less  of  Gurney's  scrip- 
tural orthodoxy.  They  must,  therefore,  be  taken  and 
treated  just  as  we  find  them  upon  the  page  of  contemporary 
History,  and  not  as  they  are  caricatured  by  the  New 
Lights,  nor  as  they  are  complimented  by  the  Old  Lights, 
of  modern  Quakerism.  No  caricature,  however  ludicrous, 
can  render  George  Fox  or  Edward  Burroughs  contempti- 
ble ;  and  no  pleading,  however  special,  can  redeem  their 
memory  from  the  charge  of  fanaticism. 

The  Quakerism  which  Bunyan  found  in  Bedfordshire, 
he  thus  describes  : — 

"  The  errors  that  this  people  then  maintained,  were, 

"  ] .  That  the  Holy  Scriptures  were  not  the  word  of 
God. 

"  2.  That  every  man  in  the  world  had  the  spirit  of 
Christ,  grace,  faith,  &c. 


LIFE   OF    BUNYAN.  233 

"  3.  That  Christ  Jesus,  as  crucified,  and  dying  sixteen 
hundred  years  ago,  did  not  satisfy  divine  justice  for  the 
sins  of  the  people. 

"  4.  That  Christ's  flesh  and  blood  were  within  the 
saints. 

"  5.  That  the  bodies  of  the  good  and  bad  that  are 
buried  in  the  churchyard,  shall  not  arise  again. 

"  6.  That  the  resurrection  is  past  with  good  men 
already. 

"  7.  That  the  man  Jesus,  that  was  crucified  between 
two  thieves  on  Mount  Calvary,  in  the  land  of  Canaan,  by 
Jerusalem,  was  not  ascended  above  the  starry  heavens. 

"  8.  That  the  same  Jesus  that  died  by  the  hands  of  the 
Jews,  would  not  come  again  at  the  last  day  and  as  man, 
judge  all  nations,  &c." 

This  is  not  modern  Quakerism ;  nor  was  primitive 
Quakerism,  as  that  is  explained  and  defended  in  the 
writings  of  its  authors,  chargeable  with  all  this  error. 
This  is,  however,  the  Quakerism  which  Bunyan  met  with 
whilst  going  his  rounds  as  a  travelling  tinker.  These 
were  the  startling  assertions  flung  in  his  face,  by  ordinary 
Quakers,  when  their  tongue  and  his  hammer  happened  to 
sound  in  the  same  streets,  or  when  they  contradicted  his 
barn-sermons  in  the  villages.  Then,  whatever  may  have 
been  the  key-note  given  by  their  Ministers,  the  burden  of 
their  vociferated  song  was,  "  Christ  is  a  Christ  crucified 
within^  dead  within^  risen  again  within^  and  ascended 
within!^*  It  was,  therefore,  to  what  he  saw  and  heard, 
that  Bunyan  addressed  himself,  when  he  first  became  a 
writer.  In  his  first  Treatise,  he  named  neither  a  Minister 
nor  a  Book  of  the  Quakers.  With  the  exception  of  seven 
questions  to  them,  at  the  end  of  it,  he  does  not  even  plead 
with  them,  but  with  those  who  "  listened"  to  them. 

His  maiden  Work  is  entitled  '*  Gospel  Truths  Opened  ;" 
and  it  well  deserves  the  name !     It  is  a  fine  specimen  of 
the  Apostolic  mode  of  ''  opening  and  alleging,  that  Jesus 
ir  H 


234  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

is  the  Christ."  Apollos  may  have  been  more  eloquent 
than  Bunyan,  but  he  could  not  have  been  mightier  in 
the  Scriptures.  There  is  no  extravagance  in  this  compli- 
ment. It  is  confined  to  his  reasonings,  of  course.  His 
occasional  railing  is  like  that  of  his  times,  severe.  It  is 
not,  however,  hitter,  even  when  most  severe. 

Dr.  Southey  says  of  Bunyan's  Treatise,  that  although 
*'  little  wisdom  and  less  moderation  might  be  expected  in  a 
polemical  discourse,"  which  professedly  assails  "  Scorpions 
broken  loose  from  the  bottomless  Pit,"  it  is  yet  "  a  calm, 
well  arranged,  and  well  supported  statement  of  the  Scrip- 
tural doctrines  on  some  momentous  points,  which  the 
primitive  Quakers  were  understood  by  others  to  deny ; 
and  which,  in  fact  (though  they  did  not  understand  them- 
selves), they  did  deny,  both  virtually  and  explicitly,  when 
in  the  heat  and  acerbity  of  oral  disputation  they  said  they 
knew  not  what."  This  testimony  is  strong.  I  must, 
however,  go  beyond  it.  The  Book  was  written  in  1656, 
when  Bunyan  began  to  preach.  It  must,  therefore,  have 
been  thrown  off  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  and  at  one  heat. 
And  yet,  it  sweeps  the  whole  circle  of  the  question  of  the 
Messiahship  of  Jesus ;  and  that  with  a  strict  logic,  and  a 
pure  taste.  I  can  never  read  it,  without  thinking  of  Dr. 
Smith's  "  Scripture  Testimony."  It  has  all  the  convincing 
power  of  that  masterly  work,  although  it  acquires  that 
power  from  common-sense  alone.  This  may  seem  an 
extravagant  statement  to  those  who  have  only  skimmed 
the  Treatise ;  but  it  will  be  acknowledged  as  the  words 
of  truth  and  soberness,  by  all  who  have  studied  the  work 
with  an  express  reference  to  the  class  it  was  addressed 
to.  I  shall  tempt  some  to  do  so,  when  I  add,  that, 
for  ordinary  readers,  it  is  perhaps  the  best  thing  against 
Socinianism  they  could  read.  In  this  point  of  view  it 
deserves  to  be  republished,  and  circulated  amongst  the 
poor ;  for  its  bearings  against  old  Quakerism  are  its  least 
merit. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  235 

Dr.  Soiitliey  is,  no  doubt,  rig-ht,  in  saying-,  that  "  Burton 
may  have  corrected  some  vulgarisms,"  and  mended  the 
*'  tinkerly  appearance  "  of  the  spelling,  as  well  as  prefaced 
the  work.  "  Other  corrections,"  he  justly  says,  "  it  would 
not  need."  If  it  had.  Burton  could  not  have  supplied 
them ;  for  neither  his  style  nor  his  vein  would  have 
chimed  in  with  Bunyan's.  The  good  man  must,  however, 
have  been  both  amazed  and  delighted,  when  he  prepared 
Bunyan's  manuscript  for  the  Press !  I  can  now  see 
Burton's  face  lighted  up  with  complacency,  when  he  said 
of  his  friend  and  brother,  "  He  hath  through  Grace,  taken 
three  heavenly  Degrees,  viz.  union  with  Christ,  —  the 
anointing  of  the  Spirit, — experience  of  Temptation  ;  which 
do  more  fit  a  man  for  the  weighty  work  of  preaching  the 
gospel,  than  all  the  University  learning  and  degrees  that 
can  be  had."  But  if  his  friend  felt  thus — what  must  his 
wife  have  enjoyed  when  she  saw  her  husband  writing  a 
book !  She  deserved  the  joy  of  that  event,  after  having 
seen  him  so  often  and  long  sitting,  like  the  Man  in  the 
Iron  Cage,  "  with  his  eyes  looking  down  to  the  ground, 
his  hands  folded  together,  and  sighing  as  if  he  would  break 
his  heart."  Pilgrim.  She  who  watched  over  him  then, 
would  work  for  him  now,  and  take  care  that  neither  pan 
nor  kettle  should  thrust  the  pen  out  of  his  hand,  whilst  he 
was  getting  on,  whenever  her  own  hand  could  clench  a 
rivet  or  solder  a  crack. 

There  is  a  peculiarity  about  his  "  Gospel  Truths 
Opened,"  which  proves  more  against  the  Quakerism  he 
was  surrounded  by,  than  any  of  his  charges  against  it. 
He  almost  invariably  calls  the  Jesus  Christ,  *'  the  Son  of 
Mary."  One  part  of  the  title  is,  "  The  Doctrine  of 
Jesus,  the  Son  of  Mary."  Bunyan  was  driven  to  this 
phraseology,  by  the  clamour  of  Quakerism  against  preach- 
ing the  outward  Christ,  and  by  the  identification  of  the 
inward  light  with  Christ.  In  no  other  way  could  he 
have  exposed  or  detected  the  glib  pretence  of  the  Quakers 


236  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

around  him,  when  they  boasted  of  making  Christ  "  all  in 
all."  This,  however,  brought  them  to  a  test  they  could 
not  flinch  from  ;  and,  accordingly,  they  charged  him  to  his 
face  with  setting  up  an  idol  in  Heaven,  because  he  taught 
the  people,  that  the  "  Son  of  Mary  was  in  Heaven  with 
the  same  body  that  was  crucified  on  the  Cross." 

Edward  Burroughs  felt  that  Quakerism  was  endangered 
by  Banyan's  dexterity.  He  could  not  conceal  his  sus- 
picions, nor  suppress  his  fears  of  the  Tinker^  although 
remonstrating  at  the  time  with  the  Protector.  This  is  a 
curious  coincidence.  Burroughs  testified  against  Cromwell 
and  Bunyan  at  the  same  time,  and  much  in  the  same  style; 
and  both  answered  him  ;  the  former  by  sending  for  him, 
and  the  latter  by  writing  to  him.  Cromwell  had  rather  a 
high  opinion  of  him,  notwithstanding  all  the  home  truths, 
as  well  as  extravagancies,  he  uttered.  Indeed,  he  was 
evidently  a  clever  man,  although  somewhat  crazed  about 
prophecy.  Sewell,  the  Quaker  historian,  maintained  that 
Burroughs  predicted  the  fate  of  Richard  Cromwell :  and  it 
is  an  odd  coincidence,  that  Richard  resigned  soon  after  he 
read  the  prophecy. — Sewell,  vol.  i.  p.  326. 

I  have  not  room  to  characterise  Burroughs  at  full 
length  :  but  a  pretty  good  idea  of  him  may  be  formed  from 
the  fact,  that  he  publicly  shouted,  "  Plagues,  plagues,  and 
vengeance,"  against  the  friends  of  Oliver,  when  he  met 
them  escorting,  with  heraldic  pomp  and  blazonry,  the 
image  of  the  Protector  to  Westminster.  Sewell  says,  "  he 
thus  raised  for  himself  a  more  lasting  monument,  than 
the  Statue  erected  to  his  quondam  friend,  O.  Cromwell." 
—Ibid. 

What  kind  of  statue  he  raised  for  himself  by  writing 
against  Bunyan,  will  be  seen  from  the  following  '■^  Mah- 
shaking^*  as  Dr.  Southey  well  calls  the  tirade.  **  John 
Bunyan,  your  spirit  is  tried,  and  your  generation  is  read 
at  large,  and  your  stature  and  countenance  is  clearly 
described  to  me,  to  be  of  the  stock  of  Ishmael, — and  of 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  237 

the  seed  of  Cain, — whose  line  reacheth  unto  the  murthering 
Priests,  Scribes,  and  Pharisees.  O  thou  blind  Priest,  whom 
i  God  hath  confounded  in  thy  languag-e, — the  design  of  the 
I  Devil  in  deceiving  souls  is  thine  own,  and  I  turn  it  back 
to  thee. — Thou  directest  altogether  to  a  thing  without, 
despising  the  Light  within,  and  worshipping  the  name 
Mary  in  thy  imagination,  and  knowest  not  Him  who  was 
before  the  world  was ;  in  whom  alone  is  salvation,  and  in 
no  other. — If  we  would  diligently  search  we  should  find 
thee,  through  feigned  words,  through  covetousness,  making 
merchandise  of  souls,  and  loving  the  wages  of  unrighteous- 
ness :  and  such  were  the  scoffers  Peter  speaks  of,  among 
whom  thou  art  found  in  thy  practice,  among  them  who  are 
preaching  for  hire,  and  love  the  error  of  Balaam,  who  took 
gifts  and  rewards. — The  Lord  rebuke  thee,  thou  unclean 
spirit,  who  has  falsely  accused  the  innocent  to  clear  thyself 
of  guilt :  but  at  thy  door  guilt  lodges,  and  I  leave  it  with 
thee !  Clear  thyself,  if  thou  art  able.  Thou  art  one  of 
the  Dragon's  army  against  the  Lamb  and  his  followers ; 
and  thy  weapons  are  slanders ;  and  thy  refuge  is  lies. 
Thy  Work  is  confused,  and  hath  hardly  gained  a  name  in 
Babylon's  Record." 

This  is  a  specimen  of  what  Burroughs  calls,  "  contending 
for  the  true  faith  of  the  Gospel  of  Peace  in  the  spirit  of 
meekness !"  We  may  laugh  at  this  as  pretence ;  but  the 
writer  was  quite  serious.  He  saw  nothing  in  all  this  bitter 
and  railing  accusation,  but  the  true  spirit  of  meekness. 
This  is  just  the  way  in  which  meek  spirits  write  when  they 
kindle  with  zeal.  It  is  only  passionate  men  who  remon- 
strate temperately,  in  religious  controversy.  They  are 
afraid  of  their  own  spirit ;  and  thus  suppress  its  fire : 
whereas  bland  and  gentle  spirits,  when  they  burn,  indulge 
it.  Robert  Sandeman  was  gentle  as  a  lamb,  although  he 
wrote  like  a  fury  :  whereas  John  Glass,  whose  writings  on 
Faith  breathe  nothing  but  love,  is  said  to  have  been  an 
irritable  and  violent  man.      One  of  the  Ishmaels  of  the 


238  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

present  day,  is  as  mild  as  an  emulsion.  He  said  to  me, 
the  first  time  I  saw  him,  *'  you  calculated  upon  meeting-  a 
roaring-  lion."  He  was  surprised  when  I  told  him,  that 
the  violence  of  his  pen  had  convinced  me  of  the  gentleness 
of  his  spirit ;  and  that  I  calculated  upon  finding  him  a 
lamb.  The  fact  is,  men  of  fiery  mood,  when  they  wax 
unusually  warm,  suspect  that  they  are  "  set  on  fire  of 
hell ;"  and  thus  resist  a  conflagration :  whereas  when  cool 
men  kindle,  they  fan  the  flame,  because  they  think  it 
comes  from  Jieaven.  Burroughs  believed  it  to  be  inspira- 
tion. The  hotter  he  became,  the  more  heavenly  he  deemed 
himself.  He  seems,  however,  to  have  been  a  bland,  as 
well  as  a  bold  man.  His  Letters  to  his  family  and  his 
suffering-  friends,  are  full  of  tenderness.  His  eulog-ist, 
Howgill,  says  in  his  Epicedium  (for  it  deserves  that  name, 
although  in  prose  ;  being  full  of  poetical  "  thoughts  which 
breathe,  and  words  which  burn"),  "For  though  thou  didst 
cut  as  a  razor — and  many  a  rough  stone  hast  thou  squared 
and  polished — and  much  knotty  wood  hast  thou  hewed  in 
thy  day ;  yet  to  the  Seed,  thy  words  dropped  like  oil,  and 
thy  lips  as  the  honeycomb."  William  Penn  is  another 
illustration  of  this  paradox. 

I  am  not  apologizing  for  Burroughs.  His  denunciations 
of  Bunyan  admit  of  no  defence ;  and  his  sneers  at  him  are 
ill-concealed  alarms  or  mortifications.  Had  Bunyan's  work 
not  been  telling  within  and  beyond  the  pale  of  Quakerism, 
Burroughs  would  have  let  the  Tinker  alone.  Bunyan 
answered  him  with  great  dignity,  and  much  point.  In 
reply  to  the  calumnious  charge  of  being  a  hireling,  he 
calmly  said,  "  Ask  others  :  I  preach  the  truth,  and  work 
with  my  hands  for  mine  own  living,  and  for  those  that 
are  with  me."  Burroughs  had  the  meanness  to  give  him 
the  lie  direct,  to  this  vindication ;  and  to  say,  *'  Thy 
portion  shall  be  howling  and  gnashing  of  teeth ;  for  the 
Liar's  portion  is  the  Lake."  The  secret  of  this  rage  is, 
that  Bunyan  had  nailed  him  with  powerful  questions,  to 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  239 

which  a  "  Yea  or  Nay  "  answer  was  demanded.  He  had 
also  placed  him  between  the  horns  of  a  laughable  dilemma, 
which  all  the  country  could  understand.  It  was  this. 
Bunyan  had  classed  the  Quakers  with  the  false  prophets, 
whom  St.  John  describes.  Burroughs  said,  in  answer  to 
this,  that  "  there  was  not  a  Quaker  heard  of  in  these 
days."  Sad  concession !  Bunyan  caught  at  it  at  once,  and 
said,  "  Thou  art  right :  there  was  no  Quaker ;  but  there 
were  many  of  Christians  then.  By  this  you  yourselves  do 
confess,  that  you  are  a  new  upstart  Sect,  which  was  not,  at 
other  times,  in  the  world,  though  christian  saints  have 
been  always  in  the  world.  Friend,  here,  like  a  man  in 
the  dark,  in  seeking  to  keep  thyself  out  of  one  ditch,  thou 
art  fallen  into  another :  instead  of  proving  yourselves  no 
false  prophets,  you  prove  yourselves  no  Christians ;  saying, 
'  there  was  not  a  Quaker  heard  of  then.'  But  if  Quakers 
had  been  Christians,  they  would  have  been  heard  of  then." 
Bunyan  could  enjoy  a  joke,  and  point  a  sarcasm  ;  but 
there  was  no  venom  in  his  wit,  and  he  had  no  taste  for 
personalities.  He,  therefore,  just  vindicated  his  character 
and  creed,  and  dropt  the  controversy,  that  he  might  devote 
himself  to  the  work  of  an  evangelist.  We  shall  see,  how- 
ever, that  he  kept  his  eye  upon  Quakerism,  even  whilst  he 
was  a  prisoner  ;  especially  when  Ludovic  Muggleton  began 
to  rave.  Then  he  sent  out  warnings  against  fanaticism, 
which  made  the  Quakers  themselves  denounce  Muggleton. 
Richard  Farnsworth  himself  declared  this  maniac  (the 
Courteiiay  of  these  times)  "  to  be  punishable  by  the  law 
of  the  land :"  and  Sewell  seems  to  regret  that  he  could  not 
"  find  any  punishment  inflicted  on  him,  other  than  the 
Pillory,  and  half  a  year's  imprisonment." — Sewelly  vol.  ii. 
p.  95.  In  other  respects,  the  Quakers  acquitted  them- 
selves well  of  all  sympathy  with  the  Muggletonian 
fanatics. 


240  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


BUNYAN  S    EXAMPLE. 


Although  no  one's  experience  is  exactly  like  Bunyan's, 
yet  all  who  have  had  any  experience  of  terror  or  tempta- 
tion, of  hope  or  fear,  of  agony  or  anguish,  find  something 
in  his  vicissitudes,  analogous  to  their  own.  The  revolu- 
tions of  his  hopes  and  fears  were  indeed  often  abrupt,  and 
always  extreme  ;  but  they  circled  for  ever  around  the 
question  of  his  Eternal  Salvation.  It  was  for  his  Soul  he 
feared  when  he  was  shaken  with  terrors  :  it  was  for  his 
Soul  he  hoped  when  he  shouted  for  joy.  When  he  hung 
his  harp  upon  the  willows,  it  was  because  the  hope  of 
salvation  had  fallen  into  the  dark  waters  of  despair  beneath ; 
and  when  he  took  down  that  harp,  it  was  because  this  hope 
had  emerged  from  them  again.  For  although  he  marked 
and  felt  the  vicissitudes  of  his  health  and  his  family,  he 
was  absorbed  chiefly  by  the  varying  aspects  of  Eternity. 

This  is  the  real  secret  of  our  sympathy ^r  him.  It  is  a 
sympathy  with  him.  Not,  indeed,  in  all  the  depth  of  his 
woe,  nor  in  all  the  height  of  his  rapture  :  but,  still,  in  the 
causes  or  springs  of  both.  At  the  extremes  of  both  hope 
and  fear,  he  is  beyond  us.  In  the  power  of  describing  or 
expressing  both,  he  is  above  us.  His  Harp  when  mujffled 
is  too  sad  for  us ;  and  when  tuned  to  the  Harps  around 
the  Throne,  too  loud  or  too  sweet  for  the  usual  melody  of 
our  own  hearts.  But  still,  we  feel  it  to  be  alike  true  to 
the  fear  of  perishing,  and  to  the  hope  of  salvation.  It  was 
not  too  solemn  when  the  sorrows  of  death  compassed  him, 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  241 

and  the  pains  of  hell  gat  hold  upon  him ;  nor  too  cheerful 
even  when  it  rung  with  rapture  over  the  tokens  of  the 
Divine  presence,  and  the  earnests  of  Eternal  glory.  We 
may  not  exactly  regret  that  we  cannot  rise  to  all  the  height 
of  Bunyan's  joy,  when  it  is  unspeakable,  by  its  fulness  of 
glory ;  and  we  may  even  dread  and  deprecate  sinking  so 
low  in  the  fearful  pit  of  terror  as  he  did  :  but  we  cannot 
wonder  that  his  song  was  loud  when  he  felt  his  footing 
upon  the  Rock  of  Ages,  nor  that  his  grief  was  clamorous 
whilst  he  thought  Heaven  shut  against  his  prayers,  and 
Hell  his  inevitable  portion :  for  his  feelings  then  are  not 
too  strong  for  such  extremes  of  hope  and  fear.  He  may, 
indeed,  have  feared  too  much  when  the  cloud  was  upon  his 
spirit,  and  hoped  too  fondly  when  the  rainbow  spangled 
and  dispersed  that  cloud :  but  he  did  feel  all  the  hope  and 
the  fear  he  gave  utterance  to.  He  said  nothing  stronger 
than  he  thought  and  felt  at  the  time,  although  he  has  said 
more  about  both  his  joys  and  sorrows  than  any  other  man. 

It  was  not  by  accident^  however,  that  he  said  so  much, 
nor  that  he  had  so  much  to  say.  God  was  training  him  to 
teach  many,  and  therefore  made  him  "  a  wonder  to  many." 
And  he  was  just  the  man,  so  far  as  mind  is  concerned,  to 
be  thus  selected  for  a  sign  to  "  be  wondered  at :"  for 
neither  the  great  nor  the  wise  can  question  his  genius,  and 
the  poor  will  sympathise  with  his  mean  origin  for  ever.  No 
class  can  doubt  his  perfect  sincerity,  and  all  classes  must 
feel  his  matchless  power.  Like  the  sun,  he  reveals  himself 
by  his  own  light,  and  reaches  the  meridian  by  his  own 
strength ;  so  far  as  human  help  is  concerned.  He  owefe 
little  to  circumstances,  and  still  less  to  education,  for  what 
he  became  as  a  thinker  or  a  writer.  He  was  horn^  not 
made,  an  allegorical  Poet  in  prose. 

It  was  both  like  God,  and  worthy  of  Him,  to  select  this 
man  to  be  "  a  polished  shaft  in  His  quiver."  Bunyan  may 
be  shot  anywhere,  at  any  time,  and  with  great  effect  until 
the  end  of  time.     He  can  neither  break  nor  blunt  by  long 

1 1 


212  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

use,  nor  rust  when  unemployed.  He  is  always  new, 
however  often  read ;  and  never  entirely  forg-otten  by  the 
most  superficial  reader.  Some  fine  image,  or  emphatic 
maxim,  or  thrilling"  sentiment,  lays  hold  on  the  mind,  and 
lingers  in  the  memory,  even  if  his  devotional  spirit  be 
forgotten  as  penitence,  or  disliked  as  prayer. 

It  was  just  in  a  mind  of  this  order,  that  a  public  manifes- 
tation of  the  power  of  Conscience  could  be  made  with  effect. 
The  terrors  of  a  weak  mind,  or  even  of  an  ordinary  mind, 
are  easily  ascribed  to  intellectual  weakness :  but  when  Con- 
science overpowers  an  acute  understanding,  and  saddens  a 
spirit  at  once  buoyant  and  mighty,  and  makes  a  creative 
genius  create  only  visions  of  horror  and  despair,  we  are 
compelled  to  pause  and  ask,  what  must  conscience  be, 
seeing  it  can  thus  master  all  the  other  powers  of  the 
mind  ;  and  without  deranging  them,  turn  each  of  them 
into  a  conscience,  or  make  them  all  parts  of  itself?  It  is 
this  fact  that  Jiames  in  the  example  of  Bunyan.  We  see 
the  man  who  had  an  eye  for  all  that  is  lovely,  and  an  ear 
for  all  that  is  sweet,  and  a  heart  for  all  that  is  sublime  in 
Nature,  so  bowed  down  under  a  sense  of  guilt,  unworthi- 
ness,  and  danger,  that  he  can  neither  speak  nor  look  up ; 
neither  eat  nor  sleep  ! 

We  need  a  sight  of  this  kind,  on  many  accounts.  We 
do  not  naturally  suspect,  and  are  not  willing  to  believe, 
that  Conscience  can  thus  bleed  or  burn,  except  when  it  is 
laden  with  unusual  or  unutterable  crimes.  We  can  hardly 
admit,  in  our  own  case,  that  we  could  be  brought  thus  low, 
or  be  stretched  on  this  rack.  And,  happily,  it  is  not 
necessary  that  we  should  be  either  racked  or  bowed  down 
as  he  was.  It  is,  however,  both  necessary  and  desirable, 
that  we  should  be  fully  aware  of  what  an  inflamed  con- 
science can  inflict  upon  mind  and  body.  We  do  not 
understand  "  the  wrath  to  come,"  until  we  understand  the 
power  of  Conscience  in  some  measure,  either  from  feeling 
or  observation.      God  has,  therefore,  exemplified^  in  a  man 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


243 


universally  known  and  admired,  the  gnawings  of  the  Worm 
which  dieth  not,  and  the  heat  of  unquenchable  fire,  just 
that  we  may  appreciate  the  mercy  of  more  gentle  awaken- 
ings, and  not  provoke  Him  to  make  or  let  conscience  do  its 
worst :  for  its  ivorst  could  make  any  man  a  terror  to 
himself,  and  to  all  around  him  ! 

This,  I  grant,  seldom  happens.  The  reason  of  its  rare- 
ness is  not,  however,  sufficiently  acknowledged  or  noticed. 
It  is  because  God  has  shown  in  the  case  of  David,  Paul, 
the  Philippian  Jailor,  the  Pentecostal  converts, — and  not 
less  in  Bunyan,  —  how  conscience  can,  like  the  Sinai 
Trumpet,  outspeak  the  thunder,  and  outhurn  the  lightning, 
that  he  so  seldom  repeats  the  fearful  experiment,  or  adopts 
this  fiery  line  of  moral  discipline.  Indeed,  it  is  evidently 
a  part  of  His  plan  to  make  as  few  public  examples  as 
possible:  and,  therefore.  He  has  made  the  few  signal; 
and  in  men  who  can  neither  be  forgotten  nor  overlooked ; 
and  in  characters  which  no  man  of  sense  can  suspect  of 
weakness,  or  doubt  their  sincerity.  Wilberforce  was  one 
of  these  signal  examples,  although  not  known  as  such  until 
his  Sons  told  his  secret.  There  is  a  Bunyan-like  emphasis 
in  some  of  his  confessions.  "  It  was  not,"  he  says,  "  so 
much  the  fear  of  punishment  by  which  I  was  affected, — as 
a  sense  of  my  great  sinfulness  in  having  so  long  neglected 
the  unspeakable  mercies  of  my  God  and  Saviour  :  and  such 
was  the  effect  which  this  thought  produced,  that  for  months 
I  was  in  a  state  of  the  deepest  depression,  from  strong 
convictions  of  my  guilt.  Indeed,  nothing  which  I  had 
ever  read  in  the  accounts  of  others,  exceeded  what  I  then 
felt." — Life,  vol.  i.  p.  89.  Pitt  wondered  even  at  the  little 
he  saw  of  this  in  Wilberforce  :  but  "  Old  Newton  "  did  not, 
although  he  saw  the  whole  of  it. 

God  has  thus  placed  in  a  very  puzzling  and  mortifying 
dilemma,  the  men  who  deny  that  He  either  interferes  with 
the  conscience  by  His  Spirit,  or  allows  Satan  to  lodge 
"fiery  darts"  in  the  mind.     For,  to  what  can   they  refer 


244  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

the  sharp  agony  of  Paul  at  Damascus,  or  the  frequent 
despair  of  David,  or  the  anguish  of  Wilberforce,  or  the 
protracted  horrors  of  Bunyan  ?  It  will  not  do  to  call 
these  men  weak.  The  world,  as  well  as  the  Church,  feels 
and  owns  their  strength !  Not  one  of  all  the  nicknames  in 
the  vocabulary  of  Ridicule,  can  be  applied  to  them.  He 
stamps  himself  rogue  in  philosophy,  who  stigmatizes  them 
as  fools,  fanatics,  impostors,  or  dupes.  And  he  is  neither 
Philosopher  nor  Philanthropist,  for  the  good  of  his  species, 
who  tells  them  that  neither  God  nor  Satan  had  any  thing 
to  do  with  the  mental  sufferings  of  John  Bunyan :  for  if 
mind  has  a  tendency  to  such  fearful  moods,  or  can  take 
such  dread  turns,  in  spite  of  both  its  wish  and  will,  even 
when  its  powers  are  strong,  and  its  tastes  pure,  and  its 
aspirations  sublime,  what  security  has  any  man,  who  is 
not  half  an  idiot,  against  becoming  a  terror  or  a  burden  to 
himself  ?  How  benign  is  the  philosophy  of  the  New 
Testament,  compared  with  this  "  cruel  mockery"  of  human 
nature.  "  The  Spirit  shall  convince  of  Sin,  and  of 
Righteousness,  and  of  Judgment  !"  This  promise, 
although  it  set  no  certain  limits  to  the  degree  of  convic- 
tion, places  both  the  length  and  power  of  it  in  the  hands 
of  one,  who  is  emphatically  and  officially  the  Comforter, 
and  thus  sure  not  to  "  contend  for  ever,"  nor  to  inflict 
wounds  which  are  unhealable,  nor  to  impose  burdens  which 
are  unbearable.  Accordingly,  although  Bunyan  suffered 
much  and  long,  he  was  not  left  to  sink  in  the  "  deep 
waters,"  nor  allowed  to  become  desperate. 

In  like  manner,  if  there  was  much  wisdom  in  making  him 
an  example  of  the  power  of  Conscience,  there  was  not  less 
in  making  him  an  example  of  the  power  of  the  Gospel  to 
cheer  and  console.  For  as  he  was  just  the  man  in  whom 
fear  cannot  be  thought  weakness,  nor  despair  affectation, 
so  was  he  just  the  man  in  whom  hope  cannot  be  deemed 
presumption,  nor  joy  pretence.  He  was  humbled  too 
deeply    to    presume,    and    he    suffered    too    much    to    be 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


245 


consoled  by  fancies.  He  took,  indeed,  fanciful  views,  at 
first,  of  the  real  grounds  of  hope :  but  still,  it  was  of  the 
I  real  grounds  of  hope ;  and  they  are  so  peculiar  and 
sublime,  that  a  little  confusion  or  rashness  in  stepping  on 
to  them  cannot  injure  them,  however  it  may  show  his 
weakness  for  a  time.  Besides,  he  soon  became  both  strong 
and  wise,  when  he  understood  them. 

Religious  joy,  like  religious  fear,  needs  a  wise  represent- 
ative :  for  it  too  is  deemed  enthusiasm,  if  not  weakness,  by 
many.  Hence  the  importance  of  a  few  specimens,  and 
of  one  prominent  specimen,  of  holy  joy,  in  which  the 
keenest  eye  cannot  trace  imbecility,  nor  detect  extrava- 
gance. Hence  the  necessity,  in  a  world  like  ours,  for 
lodging  the  joy  of  Salvation,  like  the  perfection  of  Light, 
in  a  mind,  which,  like  the  diamond,  can  enshrine  it  without 
being  consumed  by  it,  and  reflect  it  without  discolouring 
its  brilliancy.  That  joy  ought,  indeed,  to  be  respected  and 
admired  in  any  mind.  It  is  one  of  its  chief  glories,  that  it 
can  dwell  with  the  poor,  and  accommodate  itself  to  the 
weak,  and  combine  itself  with  little  knowledge,  and  with 
less  talent.  Like  the  sun,  it  can  gild  a  dew-drop,  as  well 
as  enshrine  a  mountain,  or  flush  an  ocean.  Still,  it  is 
desirable  to  see  this  joy  reigning  supreme,  in  mighty 
minds,  where  other  joys  have  a  place,  or  can  be  duly 
appreciated.  This  keeps  in  check  the  senseless  and  un- 
feeling cry  of  the  multitude  who  say  of  the  godly, — '  they 
can  enjoy  nothing  else.'  I  call  that  an  unfeeling  cry, 
because  many  of  the  pious  have  nothing  else  to  enjoy.  It 
is,  therefore,  both  cruel  and  mean,  when  men  of  talents, 
taste,  and  education,  sneer  at  the  religious  joys  of  those 
who,  if  they  had  no  comfort  in  religion,  would  be  of  "  all 
men  the  most  miserable."  A  well-judging,  even  a  well- 
disposed,  mind,  would  rejoice  in  the  fact,  that  the  joy  of 
salvation  can  lighten  the  toil  of  the  labourer,  and  sweeten 
the  crumbs  of  the  poor,  and  soften  the  couch  of  the 
afflicted.      God  has  not,  however,  left  all  the  vindication 


246 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


of  spiritual  joy,  to  the  good  it  does  to  the  poor  and  the 
afflicted.  It  is  to  be  Eternal  joy  to  them  who  fear  Him  ; 
and  as  the  weakest  of  them  will  one  day  know  even  as 
they  are  known,  and  be  for  ever  like  angels  in  both  talents 
and  taste,  He  shows  now  to  the  world,  some  of  the  master- 
spirits of  the  world  rejoicing  in  His  Salvation  with  joy 
unspeakable  and  full  of  glory,  whilst  enjoying  with  high 
zest  the  beauties  and  sublimities  of  Nature,  and  giving  full 
play  to  a  hallowed  curiosity  and  a  sanctified  imagination. 
Bunyan  is  but  one  exemplification  of  the  truth  of  this. 
Newton's  eye  was  not  less  keen  to  discover,  nor  his  wing 
less  quick  to  track,  the  motions  of  stars  and  comets,  when 
he  studied  alternately  the  Universe  and  the  Bible,  than 
whilst  the  former  wholly  absorbed  him.  Milton  tore  no 
string  from  his  harp,  nor  struck  its  strings  with  less 
boldness,  when  he  made  Mount  Zion  his  Parnassus,  and 
"  Siloa's  brook"  his  Helicon.  Wilberforce  only  amused 
princes  and  Senators  whilst  his  joy  was  like  their  own  ; 
"  of  the  earth,  earthy  ;"  but  he  both  fascinated  and  awed 
them,  and  won  the  homage  of  the  world,  when  he  made 
Salvation  his  chief  good,  and  the  glory  of  God,  in  the 
welfare  of  man,  his  supreme  end.  Robert  Hall  lost  none 
of  the  purity  of  Plato,  and  laid  aside  none  of  the  majesty 
of  Cicero,  in  his  style,  when  he  wrote  on  the  glory  of  the 
Atonement  and  the  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  as  the 
grounds  of  his  own  hope  and  joy.  And  in  the  case  of 
Bunyan,  that  joy  was  the  strength  of  his  imagination,  as 
well  as  "  of  his  heart,"  when  he  conducted  the  Holy  War 
like  a  Wellington,  and  his  Pilgrim's  Progress  like  a  Moses. 
And  this  was  done,  be  it  remembered,  in  Bedford  Jail. 
Bunyan's  joy  not  only  sustained  him  there  inflexible  in  all 
his  principles,  but  also  uncramped  in  all  his  powers.  The 
prison  of  his  body  became  the  palace  of  his  mind,  and 
made  the  world  his  kingdom,  and  Time  the  length  of  his 
reign.  Christians  can  thus  afford  to  smile  in  public, — 
although  they  prefer  to  "  weep  in  secret  places," — when 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  247 

tlie  men  of  the  world  call  the  joy  of  Salvation  a  weak 
fancy,  or  a  warm  dream.  It  made  Bunyan  happy,  and 
g-ave  that  turn  to  his  genius  which  has  added  to  the 
i  happiness  of  myriads.  It  made  Bunyan  acquainted  with 
himself^  and  thus  threw  open  to  him  the  secrets  of 
the  world  and  the  Church,  and  unveiled  to  him  no 
small  portion  of  '*  the  things  which  are  unseen  and 
eternal." 

He  was,  also,  just  the  man  in  whom  the  "  sanctification 
of  the  Spirit,  through  belief  of  the  Truth,"  could  be 
exemplified  with  commanding  effect.  Never  was  a  rmigher 
diamond  polished  into  the  beauty  of  Holiness.  He  became 
a  Gentleman  too,  when  he  became  a  Christian.  I  have 
heard  men  of  fine  tact  apply  to  him,  playfully,  the  expres- 
sion, "  he  having  not  the  law  (of  good  breeding')  was  a  law 
imto  himself;  thus  showing  the  work  of  that  law  written 
on  his  heart."  There  is  more  truth  in  this,  than  was 
intended  by  the  compliment.  The  law  of  good  breeding 
was  written  upon  his  heart,  by  his  veneration  for  God. 
That  principle  towards  God,  became  an  instinct  towards 
man,  which  seldom  erred  by  word,  look,  or  deed,  even 
when  provocation  was  great. 

But  courtesy  was  the  least  part  of  his  conformity  to  the 
divine  image.  Even  his  zeal  is  not  the  chief  beauty  of  his 
holiness :  for  he  could  do  nothing  by  halves ;  and,  there- 
fore, he  took  the  lead  in  reforming  others,  just  as  he  had 
done  in  corrupting  them,  and  was  as  zealous  in  preaching 
as  he  had  been  in  blaspheminsr.  Accordingly,  he  cared  no 
more  for  the  yelp  of  downy  Doctors,  or  the  yell  of  rash 
Magistrates,  when  he  became  an  Itinerant,  than  he  formerly 
did  for  the  Sermons  of  "  our  Parson,"  against  dancing  and 
bell-ringing  on  the  Sabbath.  It  was,  however,  in  holy 
consistency^  that  Bunyan  excelled,  when  he  avowed  himself 
to  be  a  Christian.  This  will  be  both  illustrated  and  con- 
firmed as  we  proceed.  It  is  asserted  here,  that  joroo/*  may 
be  expected. 


248  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

His  example,  at  this  time,  is  sketched  here,  in  order  to 
account  for  his  wide  influence  as  a  preacher,  and  for  the 
warm  sympathy  which  followed  him  to  "  bonds  and  impri- 
sonment." It  had  made  thoughtful  men  think  more  deeply, 
and  thoughtless  men  meditative,  before  he  was  immured 
from  their  sight  in  Bedford  jail.  He  knew  this, — and  nobly 
sustained  the  impression  he  had  made  upon  them.  The  Pri- 
soner sacrificed  none  of  the  influence  which  the  Preacher 
had  won  by  his  experience  and  example  :  and  he  had  won 
more  at  this  time,  than  has  hitherto  been  shown  or 
imagined.  He  was  *'  Bishop  Bunyan,"  in  reality,  though 
not  in  name,  when  he  was  arrested.  We  shall  see  this  in 
the  next  Chapter  ; — which,  although  rambling,  because 
sketchy^  is  yet  the  key  to  the  heroism  of  his  spirit,  and  to 
the  motives  of  his  conduct.  It  will  also  throw  some  true 
light  on  Dr.  Southey's  "  extreme  disingenuousness,"  as 
Mr.  Conder  justly  brands  the  assertion,  that  "  Bunyan 
has  been  most  wrongfully  represented  as  having  been  the 
victim  of  intolerant  laws,  and  prelatical  oppression." 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  249 


CHAPTER  XX. 

bunyan's  ministerial  position, 
1658. 

In  order  to  appreciate,  or  even  to  apprehend,  Bunyan's 
reasons  for  writing  and  acting-  as  he  did,  it  is  necessary 
to  have  a  clear  idea  of  his  Ministerial  position.  That  regu- 
lated, as  well  as  influenced,  his  chief  movements  and  habits. 
Had  he  not  been  a  Baptist,  he  would  have  written  little 
more  than  his  Pilgrim's  Progress  and  the  Holy  War ;  be- 
cause he  knew,  that  profounder  theologians  than  he  ever 
pretended  to  be,  were  publishing  quite  enough,  both  doc- 
trinal and  practical,  for  any  nation  to  read :  but  he  knew 
also,  that  the  Baptists,  as  a  body,  would  take  a  lesson  from 
him  more  readily  than  from  an  Episcopalian,  a  Presbyterian, 
or  an  Independent ;  or  at  least,  that  he  would  be  read  by 
many  who  would  not  read  Owen  nor  Baxter.  In  like  man- 
ner, had  he  not  been  more  than  a  Baptist,  he  would  have 
written  less  than  he  did.  But  he  had  to  write  against  the 
Baptists  as  well  as  for  them  ;  because,  in  general,  they 
sprinkled  all  other  churches  then,  with  the  bitter  waters  of 
strict  communion.  I  say,  sprinkled  ;  but  if  any  one  choose 
to  read,  immersed^  fact  will  warrant  the  version.  Bunyan 
had  no  sympathy  with  this  Shibboleth  of  his  times.  He 
was  the  first  to  oppose  it  formally  as  a  test  of  faith  or 
fellowship  ;  and  thus,  its  best  opponent — Robert  Hall  not 
excepted.  He  was  not,  however,  the  originator  of  open 
communion  at  Bedford.     The  Baptist  Church  there,  was 

K  K 


250  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

founded  b)  Mr.  Giiford  in  1650,  upon  the  principle,  that 
a  profession  of  faith  in  Christ,  attended  with  holiness  of 
life,  was  the  only  condition  of  christian  fellowship. 

Another  thing"  which  influenced  him  to  write  so  much, 
and  as  well  as  he  could,  was,  the  consideration  that  he 
could  not  do  too  much  for  the  glory  of  that  Grace 
which  plucked  him  as  "  a  brand  from  the  burning."  It 
is  quite  a  mistake,  that  he  wrote  in  order  to  beguile  the 
tedious  years  of  his  imprisonment,  or  for  the  sake  of 
authorship.  He  enjoyed  indeed — no  man  more — the 
exercise  of  his  own  talents,  when  he  discovered  them  : 
but  he  began  to  write,  as  he  did  to  preach,  from  the 
single  consideration,  that  he  could  speak  to  the  hearts  of 
both  sinners  and  saints  from  an  experience^  to  which  both 
would  listen,  and  neither  could  misunderstand.  Besides, 
both  expected  Bunyan  to  address  them.  He  had  been  too 
long  and  too  far  amongst  the  wild,  in  early  life,  to  be 
forgotten  by  them,  when  he  deserted  from  their  ranks. 
That  ring  looked  after  the  7'ingleader,  when  he  ceased  to 
lead  them.  They  were  amazed  at  his  conversion  from 
*'  prodigious  profaneness  to  something  like  a  moral  life," 
even  before  he  had  left  off  dancing  at  the  Maypole. 
When,  therefore,  he  became  altogether  a  Christian,  they 
calculated  upon  hearing  from  him  in  some  form.  They 
mocked  him,  because  they  feared  him.  He  knew  them ; 
and  therefore  wrote  the  Life  and  Death  of  Mr.  Badman. 
He  knew  them ;  and  therefore  when  he  saw  them  come  to 
hear  his  preaching,  he  often  said  in  his  heart,  "  that  if 
to  be  hanged  before  their  eyes  would  be  a  means  to 
awaken  them,  he  would  '  gladly  be  contented.'  "  Thus 
the  Minister  tried  all  means  to  save  some  of  those  whom, 
in  his  youth,  he  had  led  on  or  joined  in  ungodliness. 
These  were  not  few,  nor  all  in  one  place.  His  most 
intimate  companions  in  iniquity  were,  of  course,  about 
Bedford :  but  the  Tinker  had  associated  with  the  scum  of 
every  town  and  village  in  the  county,  whilst  following  his 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN  251 

craft.  The  minister  did  not  forget  this.  Accordingly,  his 
"  great  desire,"  as  he  calls  it,  **  was  to  get  into  the  darkest 
places  of  the  country  ;  even  amongst  those  people  who  were 
farthest  off  of  a  profession."  "  My  spirit,"  he  adds,  '*  did 
lean  most  after  awakening  and  converting  work,  and  the 
word  that  I  carried  did  lean  itself  most  that  way  also."  It 
was  this  leaning  which  led  him  to  write  that  awakening 
Work,  '^  Sighs  from  Hell;  or  tlie  Groans  of  a  Damned 
Soul  :^^  a  book  no  man  could  have  written,  who  had  not 
both  seen  and  shared  the  ways  of  the  most  ungodly,  as 
well  as  known  the  pangs  of  remorse. 

Bunyan's  conversion  drew  the  attention  of  the  pious 
also,  from  the  first ;  and  they  never  lost  sight  of  him 
afterwards.  They  crowded  to  hear  him  when  he  began 
to  preach,  and  longed  to  hear  from  him  when  he  was 
imprisoned.  He  knew  this,  and  wrote  his  Pilgrim  for 
their  edification,  just  as  he  did  his  "  Grace  Abounding," 
for  the  comfort  of  his  own  spiritual  children,  "  whom  he 
had  begotten  by  the  ministry  of  the  Word." 

Thus  his  popularity  as  a  Preacher  was  won,  at  first,  by 
his  "  amazing  conversion."  That  told  upon  saint  and 
sinner,  throughout  the  county,  as  Saul's  did  upon  Jew  and 
Gentile.  It  was  not  the  novelty  of  a  preaching  2Hnker  in 
Bedfordshire  any  more  than  that  of  a  preaching  Tentmaker 
at  Corinth,  that  drew  attention.  Odd  and  unexpected 
preachers  were  no  novelty  in  Bunyan's  time.  Cromwell's 
soldiers  preached  too  often  in  their  armour,  to  leave  any 
singularity  for  the  man  who  could  mend  casques  and  kettles. 
Even  stranger  transitions  than  Bunyan's  were  not  uncom- 
mon then.  It  was  his  moral  and  spiritual  transformationy 
that  drew  so  many  eyes  upon  him  at  once.  Both  the  godly 
and  the  ungodly  paused  to  wonder, — not  at  the  preaching 
Tinker,  but  at  the  holy  and  zealous  man,  whom  they  had 
long  known  as  a  reprobate.  Only  '*  the  Doctors  and 
Priests  of  the  country,"  he  says,  **  did  open  wide  against 
me."     The  rabble  seem  never  to  have  molested  him. 


252  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

This  is  an  interesting  fact.  Ivimey  says  truly,  "  there 
IS  no  record  in  his  Works,  nor  in  authentic  sources, 
that  he  was  ever  the  object  of  derision  and  virulence 
among  the  lower  classes."  The  only  intimation  of  the 
kind  is  in  Ireland's  Print  of  Bunyan's  cottage.  I  have 
preserved  that  print ;  but  expunged  from  it  both  the 
rabble  and  the  dog,  which  Ireland,  the  forger  of  the 
Shakespeare  documents,  foisted  in  for  effect.  I  did  this 
before  seeing  his  original  draughts  of  these  forged  papers ; 
and  since,  I  am  quite  satisfied  that  I  do  his  memory  no 
injury.      He  could  do  any  thing  for  effect. 

It  is  honourable  to  Bunyan's  times,  as  well  as  to 
himself,  that  his  character  and  talents  commanded  the 
veneration  of  all  rabbles,  except  the  rabble  Magistracy 
of  the  Restoration.  The  common  people,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  a  few  half-crazy  Quakers,  heard  him  gladly. 

This  glimpse  at  Bunyan's  ministerial  position,  although 
it  embraces  a  little  more  than  belongs  to  the  first  years  of 
his  preaching,  was  necessary,  in  order  to  understand  his 
own  account  of  the  character  and  success  of  his  itinerant 
labours.  We  have  seen,  that  for  the  space  of  two  years, 
he  imitated  John  the  Baptist  chiefly,  by  warning  the  multi- 
tude to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come.  This  fact  renders 
the  reception  he  met  with,  the  more  creditable  to  them. 
He  had  not  to  say  to  them,  "  Strike,  but  hear :" — they 
listened  to  his  remonstrances  and  warnings  without  threat- 
ening to  strike,  or  venturing  to  stir.  Nor  was  he  less 
faithful  to  their  consciences,  when  he  began  to  preach 
'*  the  fulness  of  the  blessing  of  the  Gospel."  "  I  did 
labour,"  he  says,  "  to  speak  the  Word  so  that  thereby, 
if  it  were  possible,  the  sin  and  the  guilty  person  might 
be  particularized  by  it."  Those  who  have  read  Bun- 
yan's sermons  know  well  how  he  could  particularize ! 
There  is  a  personality,  as  well  as  point,  in  his  improve- 
ments, which  makes  individuals  stand  out  even  to  the 
eye   of  the  reader.     We  almost  expect  the  strain  of  his 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  253 

appeal  to   take  a  new  turn,  from  some  pentecostal   out- 
cry. 

Nothing,  however,  is  so  instructive  in  the  history  of  his 
preaching-,  as  his  intense  solicitude  to  win  souls.  What- 
ever was  his  subject,  this  was  his  grand  object.  Hence  he 
says,  on  reviewing  his  preaching,  "  I  thank  God,  my  heart 
hath  often,  all  the  time  of  this  and  the  other  exercise,  cried 
to  God  with  great  earnestness,  that  he  would  make  the 
Word  effectual  to  the  salvation  of  the  soul  :  being  still 
grieved  lest  the  Enemy  should  take  it  away  from  the 
Conscience,  and  so  it  should  become  unfruitful.  And 
when  I  had  done  the  exercise,  it  hath  gone  to  my  heart  to 
think  the  Word  should  now  fall  in  stony  places.  1  was 
still  wishing  in  my  heart, — O,  that  they  who  have  heard 
me  speak  this  day,  did  but  see  as  I  do,  what  sin,  death, 
hell,  and  the  curse  of  God  is !  And  also  (did  see  as  I  see) 
what  the  grace,  and  love,  and  mercy  of  God,  through 
Christ,  is,  to  men  in  such  a  case  as  they  are,  who  are  yet 
estranged  from  him !"  Bunyan  did  not,  like  Paul,  exactly 
desire  to  be  Anathema  on  these  occasions  of  soul-travail ; 
but  he  came  very  near  to  the  Apostle's  magnanimity,  when 
he  "  did  often  say  in  his  heart  before  the  Lord, — *  I  would 
gladly  be  hanged  up  before  their  eyes  presently,  if  that 
would  be  a  means  to  awaken  them,  and  confirm  them  in 
the  truth.'  " 

This  is  a  spirit  which  God  was  sure  to  honour^  and  man 
to  feel.  Accordingly,  Bunyan  says,  **  I  have  been,  in  my 
preaching,  especially  when  I  have  been  engaged  in  the 
doctrine  of  life  by  Christ,  without  works,  as  if  an  angel  of 
God  had  stood  at  my  hack  to  encourage  me ;  oh !  it  hath 
been  with  such  power  and  heavenly  evidence  upon  my 
own  soul,  while  I  have  been  labouring  to  unfold  it,  to 
demonstrate  it,  and  to  fasten  it  upon  the  consciences  of 
others, — that  I  could  not  be  contented  with  saying,  '  I 
believe,  and  am  sure  :*  methought  I  was  more  than  sure  (if 
it  be  lawful  so  to  express  myself)  that  those  things  which  I 


254  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

then  asserted,  were  true."  He  could  thus  afford,  whilst 
he  felt  as  if  an  Ang-el  strengthened  him,  to  shut  his  ears 
"  when  the  Doctors  and  Priests  of  the  country  did  open 
wide"  upon  him.  Their  railing  could  not  make  him  rail. 
"  I  set  myself  instead,"  he  says,  *'  to  see  how  many  of 
these  carnal  professors  I  could  convince  of  their  miserable 
state  by  the  law,  and  of  the  want  and  worth  of  Christ : 
for,  thought  I,  *  This  shall  answer  for  me  in  time  to 
come,  when  they  shall  be  for  my  hire  before  their  face.' 
Gen.  XXX.  33. 

"  I  never  cared  to  meddle  with  things  that  were  contro- 
verted, and  in  dispute  among  the  saints,  especially  things 
of  the  lowest  nature ;  yet  it  pleased  me  much  to  contend 
with  great  earnestness  for  the  word  of  faith,  and  the 
remission  of  sins  by  the  death  and  sufferings  of  Jesus :  but 
I  say,  as  to  other  things,  I  would  let  them  alone,  because 
I  saw  they  engendered  strife  ;  and  because  that  they 
neither  in  doing,  nor  in  leaving  undone,  did  commend  us 
to  God  to  be  his.  Besides,  I  saw  my  work  before  me  did 
run  into  another  channel,  even  to  carry  an  awakening 
word ; — to  that,  therefore,  I  did  stick  and  adhere. 

"  I  never  endeavoured  to  nor  durst  make  use  of  other 
men's  lines  (though  I  condemn  not  all  that  do),  for  I 
verily  thought,  and  found  by  experience,  that  what  was 
taught  to  me  by  the  word  and  spirit  of  Christ,  could  be 
spoken,  maintained,  and  stood  to,  by  the  soundest  and 
best  established  conscience ;  and  though  I  will  not  now 
speak  all  that  I  know,  in  this  matter,  yet  my  experience 
hath  more  interest  in  that  text  of  Scripture,  Gal.  i.  11,  12, 
than  many  amongst  men  are  aware  : — '  I  certify  unto  you. 
Brethren,  that  the  Gospel  which  is  preached  of  me,  is  not 
after  man.  For  I  neither  received  it  of  man,  neither  was 
I  taught  it,  but  by  the  revelation  of  Jesus  Christ.' 

"  If  any  of  those  who  were  awakened  by  my  ministry, 
did  after  that  fall  back  (as  sometimes  too  many  did),  I  can 
truly  say,  their  loss  hath  been  more  to  me,  than  if  my  own 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  255 

children^  beg-otten  of  my  own  body,  had  been  going  to 
their  grave.  I  think  verily,  I  may  speak  it  without  any 
offence  to  the  Lord,  nothing  has  gone  so  near  me  as  that  ; 
unless  it  was  the  fear  of  the  loss  of  the  salvation  of  my 
own  soul.  I  have  counted  as  if  I  had  goodly  buildings 
and  lordships  in  those  places  where  my  (spiritual)  children 
were  born  ;  my  heart  hath  been  so  wrapt  up  in  the  glory 
of  this  excellent  work,  that  I  counted  myself  more  blessed 
\  and  honoured  of  God  by  this,  than  if  he  had  made  me 
the  emperor  of  the  Christian  world,  or  the  Lord  of  all  the 
glory  of  the  earth  without  it !  Oh  these  words  !  '  He  that 
converteth  a  sinner  from  the  error  of  his  way  doth  save  a 
soul  from  death. — The  fruit  of  the  righteous  is  a  tree  of 
I  life  ;  and  he  that  winneth  souls  is  wise. — They  that  be 
I  wise  shall  shine  as  the  brightness  of  the  firmament,  and 
they  that  turn  many  to  righteousness  as  the  stars  for  ever 
and  ever. — For  what  is  our  hope,  our  joy,  or  crown  of 
rejoicing  ?  Are  not  even  ye  in  the  presence  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  at  his  coming?  For  ye  are  our  glory  and 
joy.'  These,  I  say,  with  many  others  of  a  like  nature, 
have  been  great  Refreshments  to  me. 

"  I  have  observed,  that  where  I  have  had  a  work  to  do 
for  God,  I  have  had  first,  as  it  were,  the  going  of  God 
upon  my  spirit,  to  desire  I  might  preach  there.  I  have 
also  observed,  that  such  and  such  souls,  in  particular, 
have  been  strongly  set  upon  my  heart,  and  I  stirred  up  to 
wish  for  their  salvation  ;  and  that  these  very  souls  have, 
after  this,  been  given  in  as  the  fruits  of  my  ministry.  I 
have  observed,  that  a  word  cast  in  by  the  bye,  hath  done 
more  execution  in  a  sermon,  than  all  that  was  spoken 
besides.  Sometimes  also,  when  I  have  thought  I  did  no 
good,  then  I  did  the  most  of  all  ;  and  at  other  times,  when 
I  thought  I  should  catch  them,  I  have  fished  for  nothing. 

"  I  have  also  observed,  that  where  there  has  been  a 
work  to  do  upon  sinners,  there  the  devil  hath  begun  to 
roar  in  the  hearts  and  by  the  mouths  of  his  servants :  yea, 


256  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

oftentimes,  when  the  wicked  world  hath  raged  most,  there 
hath  been  souls  awakened  by  the  word. — I  could  instance 
particulars,  but  I  forbear. 

"  My  great  desire  in  my  fulfilling  my  ministry  was  to 
get  into  the  darkest  places  of  the  country,  even  amongst 
those  people  that  were  farthest  off  of  profession ;  yet  not 
because  I  could  not  endure  the  light  (for  I  feared  not  to 
show  my  gospel  to  any)  but  because  I  found  my  spirit  did 
lean  most  after  awakening  and  converting  work,  and  the 
word  that  I  carried  did  lean  itself  most  that  way  also  ; 
'  Yea,  so  have  I  strived  to  preach  the  gospel,  not  where 
Christ  was  named,  lest  I  should  build  upon  another  man*s 
foundation.'     i?om.  xv.  20. 

"  In  my  preaching  I  have  really  been  in  pain,  and 
have,  as  it  were,  travailed  to  bring  forth  children  to  God ; 
neither  could  I  be  satisfied  unless  some  fruits  did  appear 
in  my  work.  If  I  were  fruitless,  it  mattered  not  who 
commended  me  :  but  if  I  were  fruitful,  I  cared  not  who  did 
condemn.  I  have  thought  of  that,  *  Lo !  children  are  an 
heritage  of  the  Lord :  and  the  fruit  of  the  womb  is  his 
reward. — As  arrows  are  in  the  hand  of  a  mighty  man,  so 
are  children  of  the  youth.  Happy  is  the  man  that  has  his 
quiver  full  of  them ;  they  shall  not  be  ashamed,  but  they 
shall  speak  with  the  enemies  in  the  gate.'     Psal.  cxxvii.  3. 

"  It  pleased  me  nothing  to  see  people  drink  in  opinions, 
if  they  seemed  ignorant  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  worth  of 
their  own  salvation,  sound  conviction  for  sin,  especially 
unbelief,  and  an  heart  set  on  fire  to  be  saved  by  Christ, 
with  strong  breathings  after  a  truly  sanctified  soul. — That 
it  was,  that  delighted  me ;  those  were  the  souls  I  counted 
blessed. 

"  But  in  this  work,  as  in  all  other,  I  had  my  temptations 
attending  me,  and  that  of  divers  kinds ;  as  sometimes  I 
should  be  assaulted  with  great  discouragement  therein, 
fearing  that  I  should  not  be  able  to  speak  a  word  at  all  to 
edification  ;    nay,  that  I  should  not  be  able  to  speak  sense 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  257 

unto  the  people ;  at  which  times  I  should  have  such  a 
;  strang-e  faintness  and  strengthlessness  seize  upon  my  body, 
!  that  my  legs  have  scarce  been  able  to   carry  me  to  the 
place  of  exercise. 

"  Sometimes  again  when  I  have  been  preaching,  I  have 

been  violently  assaulted  with  thoughts  of  blasphemy,  and 

strongly  tempted  to  speak  the  words  of  my  mouth  before 

the  congregation.      I  have  also  at  some  times,  even  when 

I  I  have  begun   to   speak  the  word  with  much   clearness, 

'  evidence,    and    liberty    of  speech,    yet    been,    before    the 

ending  of  that  opportunity,  so  blinded  and  so  estranged 

from  the  things  I  have  been  speaking,  and  have  been  also 

so  straightened  in  my  speech,  as  to  utterance  before  the 

I  people,  that  I  have  been  as  if  I  had  not  known  or  remem- 

I  bered  what  I  have  been  about ;   or  as  if  my  head  had  been 

in  a  hag  all  the  time  of  my  exercise. 

"  Again,  when  as  sometimes  I  have  been  about  to 
preach  upon  some  smart  and  searching  portion  of  the 
word,  I  have  found  the  tempter  suggest,  *  What !  will  you 
preach  this !  This  condemns  yourself ;  of  this  your  own 
soul  is  guilty  ;  wherefore  preach  not  of  this  at  all ;  or  if 
you  do,  yet  so  mince  it,  as  to  make  way  for  your  own 
escape  ;  lest  instead  of  awakening  others,  you  lay  that 
guilt  upon  your  own  soul,  that  you  will  never  get  from 
under.* 

"  But  I  thank  the  Lord,  I  have  been  kept  from  con- 
senting to  these  so  horrid  suggestions,  and  have  rather,  as 
Samson,  bowed  myself  with  all  my  might,  to  condemn 
sin  and  transgression,  wherever  I  found  it  \  yea,  though 
therein  also,  I  did  bring  guilt  upon  my  own  conscience : 
*  Let  me  die  (thought  I,)  with  the  Philistines,'  rather  than 
deal  corruptly  with  the  blessed  word  of  God.  '  Thou  that 
teachest  another,  teachest  thou  not  thyself?'  It  is  far 
better  then  to  judge  thyself  even  by  preaching  plainly  unto 
others,  than  thou,  to  save  thyself,  imprison  the  truth  in 
unrighteousness.     Blessed  be  God  for  his  help  also  in  this. 


258  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

**  I  have  also,  while  found  in  this  blessed  work  of  Christ, 
been  often  tempted  to  pride  and  liftings  up  of  heart."  (In 
Mr.  Toplady's  works,  vol.  iv.  p.  11,  there  is  this  anecdote, 
"  Mr.  John  Bunyan  having-  preached  one  day  with  peculiar 
warmth  and  enlargement,  some  of  his  friends  after  service 
was  over  took  him  by  the  hand  and  could  not  help 
observing  what  a  sweet  sermon  he  had  delivered.  '  Aye,' 
said  the  good  man,  '  you  need  not  remind  me  of  that,  for 
the  devil  told  me  of  it  before  I  was  out  of  the  pulpit.' ") 
*'  I  dare  not  say,  I  have  not  been  affected  with  this ;  yet 
truly  the  Lord,  of  his  precious  mercy,  hath  so  carried  it 
towards  me,  that  for  the  most  part  I  have  had  but  small 
joy  to  give  way  to  such  a  thing.  For  it  hath  been  my 
every  day's  portion  to  be  let  into  the  evil  of  my  own  heart, 
and  still  made  to  see  such  a  multitude  of  corruptions  and 
infirmities  therein,  that  it  hath  caused  hanging  down  of  the 
head  under  all  my  gifts  and  attainments.  I  have  felt  this 
thorn  in  the  flesh :  '  And  lest  I  should  be  exalted  above 
measure,  through  the  abundance  of  the  revelation,  there 
was  given  to  me  a  thorn  in  the  flesh,  the  messenger  of 
Satan  to  buffet  me,  lest  I  should  be  exalted  above  measure. 
For  this  thing  I  besought  the  Lord  thrice  that  it  might 
depart  from  me.'  These  verses  were  the  very  mercy  of 
God  to  me. 

"  I  have  also  had,  together  with  this,  some  notable  place 
or  other  of  the  Word  presented  before  me,  which  word 
hath  contained  in  it  some  sharp  and  piercing  sentence 
concerning  the  perishing  of  the  soul,  notwithstanding 
gifts  and  parts.  As  for  instance,  that  hath  been  of  great 
use  to  me :  *  Though  I  speak  with  the  tongues  of  men 
and  angels,  and  have  not  charity,  I  am  become  as  sound- 
ing brass,  and  a  tinkling  cymbal.  And  though  T  have 
the  gift  of  prophecy,  and  understand  all  mysteries,  and 
all  knowledge,  and  though  I  have  all  faith,  so  that  I 
could  remove  mountains,  and  have  not  charity,  I  am 
nothing.'    1  Cor.  xiii.  1,  2. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  259 

"  A  tinkling  cymbal  is  an  instrument  of  music,  with 
which  a  skilful  player  can  make  such  melodious  and  heart- 
inflaming  music,  that  all  who  hear  him  play,  can  scarcely 
hold  from  dancing  ;  and  yet  behold  the  cymbal  hath  not 
life,  neither  comes  the  music  from  it,  but  because  of  the 
art  of  him  that  plays  therewith ;  so  then  the  instrument  at 
last  may  come  to  nought  and  perish,  though  in  times  past 
such  music  hath  been  made  upon  it. 

"  Just  thus  I  saw  it  was,  and  will  be,  with  them  that 
have  gifts,  but  want  saving  grace  ;  they  are  in  the  hand  of 
Christ,  as  the  cymbal  in  the  hand  of  David ;  and  David 
could  with  the  cymbal  make  that  mirth  in  the  service  of 
God,  as  to  elevate  the  hearts  of  the  worshippers,  so  Christ 
can  use  these  gifted  men,  as  with  them  to  aff"ect  the  souls 
of  his  people  in  his  church ;  yet  when  he  hath  done  all, 
hang  them  by,  as  lifeless^  though  sounding  cymbals. 

"  This  consideration,  therefore,  together  with  some 
others,  were  for  the  most  part,  as  a  7naul  on  the  head  of 
pride,  and  the  desire  of  vain-glory  ;  What,  thought  I,  shall 
I  be  proud  because  I  am  a  sounding  brass  ?  Is  it  so  much 
to  be  di  fiddle  ?  Hath  not  the  least  creature  that  hath  life, 
more  of  God  in  it  than  these  ?  Besides,  I  knew  it  was 
love  should  never  die,  but  those  must  cease  and  vanish :  so 
I  concluded,  a  little  grace,  a  little  love,  a  little  of  the  true 
fear  of  God,  is  better  than  all  the  gifts.  Yea,  and  I  am 
fully  convinced  of  it,  that  it  is  possible  for  souls  that  can 
scarce  give  a  man  an  answer,  but  with  great  confusion  as 
to  method ; — I  say,  it  is  possible  for  them  to  have  a  thou- 
sand times  more  grace,  and  so  to  be  more  in  the  love  and 
favour  of  the  Lord,  than  some  who  by  the  virtue  of  the 
gift  of  knowledge,  can  deliver  themselves  like  angels. 

"Thus  therefore  I  came  to  perceive,  that  though  gifts 
in  themselves  were  good,  to  the  thing  for  which  they  are 
designed,  to  wit,  the  edification  of  others,  yet  empty,  and 
without  power  to  save  the  soul  of  him  that  hath  them,  if 
they  be  alone.     Neither  are  they,  as  so,  any  sign  of  a  man's 


260  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

state  to  be  happy,  being  only  a  dispensation  of  God  to 
some,  of  whose  improvement,  or  non-improvement,  they 
must,  when  a  httle  time  more  is  over,  give  an  account  to 
Him  that  is  ready  to  judge  the  quick  and  the  dead. 

"  This  shewed  me  too,  that  gifts  being  alone,  were 
dangerous,  not  in  themselves,  but  because  of  those  evils 
that  attend  them  that  have  them,  to  wit,  pride,  desire  of 
vain-glory,  self-conceit,  &c.  all  which  were  easily  blown  up 
at  the  applause  and  commendation  of  every  unadvised 
Christian,  to  the  endangering  of  a  poor  creature  to  fall 
into  the  condemnation  of  the  devil. 

"  I  saw  therefore  that  he  that  hath  gifts,  had  need  to  be 
let  into  a  sight  of  the  nature  of  them,  to  wit,  that  they 
come  short  of  making  of  him  to  be  in  a  truly  saved  condi- 
tion, lest  he  rest  in  them,  and  so  fall  short  of  the  grace  of 
God. 

"  He  hath  cause  also  to  walk  humbly  with  God,  and  be 
little  in  his  own  eyes,  and  to  remember  withal,  that  his 
gifts  are  not  his  own,  but  the  church's ;  and  that  by  them 
he  is  made  a  servant  to  the  church  ;  and  he  must  give  at 
last  an  account  of  his  stewardship  unto  the  Lord  Jesus, 
and  to  give  a  good  account  will  be  a  blessed  thing. 

"  Let  all  men  therefore  prize  a  little,  with  the  fear  of 
the  Lord  (gifts  indeed  are  desirable),  but  yet  great  grace 
and  small  gifts  are  better  than  great  gifts  and  no  grace. 
It  doth  not  say,  the  Lord  gives  gifts  and  glory,  but  the 
Lord  gives  grace  and  glory  ;  and  blessed  is  such  an  one,  to 
whom  the  Lord  gives  grace,  true  grace ;  for  that  is  a 
certain  forerunner  of  glory. 

"  But  when  Satan  perceived  that  his  thus  tempting  and 
assaulting  of  me,  would  not  answer  his  design ;  to  wit,  to 
overthrow  the  ministry,  and  make  it  ineffectual,  as  to  the 
ends  thereof;  then  he  tried  another  way,  which  was,  to 
stir  up  the  minds  of  the  ignorant  and  malicious  to  load  me 
with  slanders  and  reproaches.  Now  therefore  I  may  say, 
that    what  the   devil   could    devise,   and    his   instruments 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  261 

invent,  was  whirled  up  and  down  the  country  against  me, 
thinking,  as  I  said,  that  by  that  means  they  should  make 
my  ministry  to  be  abandoned. 

"  It  began  therefore  to  be  rumoured  up  and  down 
among  the  people,  that  I  was  a  witch,  a  Jesuit,  a  highway- 
man, and  the  like. 

"  To  all  which,  I  shall  only  say,  God  knows  that  I  am 
innocent.  But  as  for  mine  accusers,  let  them  provide 
themselves  to  meet  me  before  the  tribunal  of  the  Son  of 
God,  there  to  answer  for  all  these  things  (with  all  the  rest 
of  their  iniquities)  unless  God  shall  give  them  repentance 
for  them,  for  the  which  I  pray  with  all  my  heart. 

'*  But  that  which  was  reported  with  the  boldest  confi- 
dence, was,  that  I  had  my  misses,  my  whores,  my  bastards  j 
yea,  two  wives  at  once,  and  the  like.  Now  these  slanders 
(with  the  others),  I  glory  in,  because  but  slanders,  foolish 
or  knavish  lies,  and  falsehoods  cast  upon  me  by  the  devil 
and  his  seed ;  and  should  I  not  be  dealt  with  thus  wickedly 
by  the  world,  I  should  want  one  sign  of  a  saint,  and  a 
child  of  God.  *  Blessed  are  you,*  said  the  Lord  Jesus, 
'  when  men  shall  revile  you  and  persecute  you,  and  shall 
say  all  manner  of  evil  of  you  falsely  for  my  sake ;  rejoice 
and  be  exceeding  glad,  for  great  is  your  reward  in  heaven, 
for  so  persecuted  they  the  prophets  which  were  before 
you.'   MatL  v.  11. 

"  These  things  therefore,  upon  mine  oimi  account, 
trouble  me  not ;  no,  though  they  were  twenty  times 
more  than  they  are,  I  have  a  good  conscience ;  and 
whereas  they  speak  evil  of  me,  as  an  evil-doer,  they  shall 
be  ashamed  that  falsely  accuse  my  good  conversation  in 
Christ. 

"  So  then,  what  shall  I  say  to  those  who  have  thus 
bespattered  me  "i  Shall  I  threaten  them  ?  Shall  I  chide 
them  ?  Shall  I  flatter  them  ?  Shall  I  entreat  them  to 
hold  their  tongues?  No,  not  1.  Were  it  not  for  that 
these  things  make  them  ripe  for  damnation,  that  are  the 


262 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


authors  and  abettors,  I  would  say  unto  them,  report  it, 
because  it  will  increase  my  glory. 

"  Therefore  I  bind  these  lies  and  slanders  to  me  as  an 
ornament ;  it  belongs  to  my  Christian  profession  to  be 
vilified,  slandered,  reproached,  and  reviled ;  and  since  all 
this  is  nothing  else^  as  my  God  and  my  conscience  do  bear 
me  witness,  I  rejoice  in  reproaches  for  Christ's  sake. 

"  I  also  call  all  those  fools  and  knaves  that  have  thus 
made  it  any  thing  of  their  business  to  affirm  any  of  these 
things  aforenamed  of  me  ;  namely,  that  I  have  been  naught 
with  other  women,  or  the  like.  When  they  have  used  the 
utmost  of  their  endeavours,  and  made  the  fullest  inquiry 
that  they  can,  (I  defy  them)  to  prove  against  me  truly,  that 
there  is  any  woman  in  heaven,  or  earth,  or  hell,  that  can 
say,  I  have  at  any  time,  in  any  place,  by  day  or  night,  so 
much  as  attempted  to  be  naught  with  them.  And  speak  I 
thus  to  beg  my  enemies  into  a  good  esteem  of  me  ?  No, 
not  I :  I  will  in  this  beg  belief  of  no  man.  Believe  me  or 
disbelieve  me  in  this,  all  is  a  case  to  me. 

"  My  foes  have  missed  their  mark  in  this  their  shooting 
at  me.  I  am  not  the  man.  I  wish  that  they  themselves 
be  guiltless.  If  all  the  fornicators  and  adulterers  in 
England  were  hanged  up  by  the  neck  till  they  be  dead, 
John  Bunyan,  the  object  of  their  envy,  would  be  still  alive 
and  well.  I  know  not  whether  there  be  such  a  thing  as  a 
woman  breathing  under  the  copes  of  the  heavens,  but  by 
their  apparel,  their  children,  or  by  common  fame,  except 
my  wife. 

"  And  in  this  I  admire  the  wisdom  of  God,  that  he 
made  me  shy  of  women  from  my  first  conversion  until 
now.  These  know,  and  can  also  bear  me  witness,  with 
whom  I  have  been  most  intimately  concerned,  that  it  is  a 
rare  thing  to  see  me  carry  it  pleasantly  towards  a  woman  ; 
the  common  salutation  of  women  I  abhor ;  it  is  odious  to 
me  in  whomsoever  I  see  it.  Their  company  alone,  I 
cannot  away  with.      I  seldom  so  much  as  touch  a  woman's 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  263 

hand,  for  I  think  these  thing-s  are  not  so  becoming-  me. 
When  I  have  seen  good  men  salute  those  women  that  they 
have  visited,  or  that  have  visited  them,  I  have  at  times 
made  my  objection  against  it  ;  and  when  they  have 
answered,  that  it  \vas  but  a  piece  of  civility,  I  have  told 
them,  it  is  not  a  comely  sight.  Some  indeed  have  urged 
the  holy  kiss ;  but  then  I  have  asked  why  they  made 
baulks^  why  they  did  salute  the  most  handsome,  and  let 
the  ill-favoured  go.  Thus,  how  laudable  soever  such 
things  have  been  in  the  eyes  of  others,  they  have  been 
unseemly  in  my  sight. 

"  And  now  for  a  ivind-up  in  this  matter  ;  I  calling  not 
only  men,  but  angels,  to  prove  me  guilty  of  having  carnally 
to  do  with  any  woman  save  my  wife  ;  nor  am  I  afraid  to  do 
it  a  second  time,  knowing  that  I  cannot  offend  the  Lord  in 
such  a  case,  to  call  God  for  a  record  upon  my  soul,  that  in 
these  things  I  am  innocent.  Not  that  I  have  been  thus 
kept,  because  of  any  goodness  in  me,  more  than  any  other, 
but  God  has  been  merciful  to  me,  and  has  kept  me  :  to 
whom  I  pray  that  he  will  keep  me  still,  not  only  from  this, 
but  every  evil  way  and  work,  and  preserve  me  to  his 
heavenly  kingdom.     Amen!" 

Such  was  Bunyan's  own  review  of  his  work,  warfare, 
and  reward,  as  a  Minister,  up  to  the  time  of  his  imprison- 
ment. It  admits  of  much  amplification  and  illustration  ; 
but  as  it  is  complete  in  itself,  I  reserve  the  additional  facts 
of  the  period,  to  throw  light  upon  the  origin  and  cast  of 
some  of  his  writings,  whilst  he  was  a  prisoner.  For  as  a 
man  and  a  minister,  he  is  now  sufficiently  before  us,  to 
secure  both  our  sympathy  and  confidence,  as  we  follow 
him  to  the  Jail  and  the  Bar.  Indeed,  we  are  quite 
prepared  already  to  exclaim,  *'  This  man  doeth  nothing 
worthy  of  death  or  of  bonds." 


264  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN, 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

bunyan's  arrest 
1660. 

Dr.  Southey  says,  "  Bunyan  was  one  of  the  first  persons, 
after  the  Restoration,  punished  for  Nonconformity."  So 
he  was :  and  as  nonconformity  was  quite  enough  to 
account  for  his  punishment,  when  the  Act  of  the  35th  of 
Elizabeth,  as  well  as  the  spirit  of  Laud,  was  restored  by 
the  last  and  the  worst  Charles,  there  was  no  need  for 
further  explanations.  Not  so,  however,  has  Dr.  Southey 
allowed  the  matter  to  stand.  He  asserts,  that  Bunyan  was 
"  known  to  be  hostile  to  the  restored  church."  He 
insinuates,  that  Bunyan's  service  in  "  the  Parliament's 
army  "  had  some  influence  upon  his  doom.  He  maintains, 
that  Bunyan's  "  calling  might  well  be  deemed  incompatible 
with  his  office."  This  is  bad  enough ;  but  it  is  not  the 
worst.  The  Fifth  Monarchy  men,  who  proclaimed  King 
Jesus,  are  dragged  in  to  account  for  the  persecution  of 
Bunyan,  although  he  was  lodged  in  Bedford  Jail  two 
months  before  Venner,  their  leader,  made  the  proclama- 
tion. Indeed,  it  was  only  on  the  3d  of  April,  Bunyan 
heard  of  it  from  Cobb,  the  Clerk  of  the  Peace !  These 
attempts  to  explain  and  palliate  the  conduct  of  Bunyan*s 
persecutors,  might  be  forgiven,  if  the  policy  of  either  the 
Church  or  the  State,  at  that  time,  were  worthy  or  capable 
of  any  imitation  now : — but  they  are  unpardonable,  now 
that  neither  Church  nor  State  would,  or  could,  revive  that 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  265 

policy.  Viewed  in  this  light,  it  is  infatuation  to  defend 
the  Church,  as  Charles  II.  headed  it,  and  Clarendon 
ruled  it,  and  Jeffries  sustained  it.  For,  what  would  the 
defenders  of  the  Church  of  that  time,  have  us  to  believe  ? 
If  not,  that  the  Establishment  might  yet  persecute  Non- 
conformists in  the  old  style,  it  is  both  unfriendly  and  unfair 
to  palliate  the  old  style  of  Prelacy.  That,  indeed,  can 
only  be  done  by  arguments  which,  if  they  prove  any  thing, 
excuse  Nero  and  Domitian,  the  Vatican  and  the  Inquisi- 
tion, far  more  than  they  do  the  Church  of  the  Restoration. 
For  the  Nonconformists  of  that  age  differed  less  from  the 
Thirty-nine  Articles,  than  the  first  Reformers  did  from  the 
Church  of  Rome.  And  if  Bunyan  might  well  be  perse- 
cuted for  State  reasons,  Paul  and  Polycarp,  Latimer  and 
Ridley  deserved  their  doom.  The  matter  comes  to  this ! 
Here  the  logic  of  palliation  lands  us  ! 

Were  I  hostile  to  the  Establishment,  I  would  not  expos- 
tulate thus  against  defences  of  it,  which  defame  the 
Puritans,  and  abet  a  King  who  superseded  "  the  reign  of 
the  saints,  by  the  reign  of  strumpets  ;  who  was  crowned  in 
his  youth  with  the  Covenant  in  his  hand,  and  died  with  the 
Host  sticking  in  his  throat,  after  a  life  spent  in  dawdling 
suspense  between  Hopbisin  and  Popery  "  (^Ed.  Hev.),  and 
in  degrading  bondage  to  levity  and  licentiousness.  The 
Church  would  not  persecute  Bunyan  now :  why  then 
should  she  be  insulted  by  vindications  of  his  persecutors  ? 
She  would  not,  even  if  she  durst,  revive  the  policy  of  the 
Restoration  :  why  then  should  she  own  any  "  Book  of  the 
Church,*'  which  dares  to  justify  that  policy  ?  They  are  not 
her  best  friends  who  say,  "  Aha,  we  would  have  it  so." 

The  persecution  of  Bunyan  for  preaching  did  not  com- 
mence, however,  with  the  Restoration.  An  indictment 
was  preferred  against  him  in  Cromwell's  time.  The 
Church  Book,  preserved  at  Bedford,  contains  this  entry, 
"  On  the  25th  December,  1657,  the  Church  resolved  to 
set  apart  a  day  for  seeking  counsel  of  God,  what  to  do  with 


266  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

respect  to  the  indictment  against  brother  Bunyan  at  the 
assizes,  for  preaching  at  Eaton."  This  action  seems  to 
have  broke  down ;  for  both  in  February  and  July  of  1658, 
he  was  present  at  the  Church-meetings  of  his  flock.  The 
fact  is,  it  was  not  so  easy  to  sustain  an  action  of  this  kind 
during  the  Commonwealth,  as  before  and  after  it :  for 
Cromwell,  although  he  gave  no  countenance  to  persecution 
for  conscience*  sake,  could  not  always  prevent  it.  The 
Presbyterian  party  contrived  to  elude  his  vigilance,  and  to 
defeat  his  measures,  at  times.  He  described  them  well 
when  he  said,  "  Nothing  will  satisfy  them,  unless  they  can 
put  their  finger  upon  their  brethren's  conscience,  and 
pi7ich  them  there."  Indeed,  as  a  party,  they  were  a  proud 
aristocracy,  until  the  execution  of  Love,  and  the  elevation 
of  Owen,  humbled  them  a  little.  In  1649,  Parliament  had 
to  say  of  them,  "  Our  being  obliged  to  take  away  all  such 
acts  and  ordinances  as  are  penal  in  matters  of  conscience, 
hath  given  them  great  offence."  This  offence  had  not 
ceased  in  1657,  when  Bunyan  was  indicted.  His  grand 
offence,  however,  was  his  popularity  in  the  country.  It 
was  that,  "  opened  wide  the  mouths  of  the  Priests  and 
Doctors."  Their  flocks  would  hear  the  Tinker,  in  spite  of 
all  warning ;  and  therefore  he  was  indicted  as  a  ivo1fvi\i\\- 
out  even  sheep's  clothing.  This  seems  to  have  been  the 
real  secret  of  his  first  persecution.  Solemn  drones  could 
not  keep  him  out  of  their  parishes,  nor  always  out  of  their 
pulpits ;  for  the  people  drew  him  into  both :  and  the 
Geneva  cloak  could  no  more  brook  this  then,  than  the 
Surplice  can  now.  Still,  it  could  not  prevent  this,  even  in 
Cambridgeshire.  He  often  preached  in  the  churches  of 
that  county,  and  occasionally  had  Gownsmen  amongst  his 
hearers.  Crosby  (the  historian  of  the  Baptists)  says,  that 
a  Cambridge  scholar,  —  not  one  of  the  soberest,  —  on 
hearing  that  a  Tinker  was  to  preach  in  church,  resolved 
"  to  hear  him  prate,''  and  gave  a  boy  twopence  to  hold  his 
horse   during  the  sermon.     The   sermon  soon  made  him 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  267 

serious  as  well  as  sober.  He  began  from  that  day  to 
embrace  every  opportunity  of  hearing  Bunyan,  whether  in 
churches  or  barns,  and  became  a  godly  man  and  a  useful 
minister.  This  fact,  although  it  does  not  exactly  identify 
the  author  of  the  Sketch  of  Bunyan's  Life,  in  the  British 
Museum,  shews  that  Bunyan  had  a  clerical  friend,  who 
was  likely  to  embalm  his  memory.  My  own  opinion  is, 
that  this  convert  was  the  author  of  that  Sketch.  I  am  led 
to  this  conclusion,  not  merely  because  I  cannot  trace  the 
tribute  to  any  one  else,  but  chiefly  because  it  manifests  so 
much  intimacy  with,  and  veneration  for,  Bunyan.  The 
following  account  of  his  preaching  and  arrest,  could  come 
only  from  one  who  loved  him  much,  and  who  had  strong 
reasons  for  loving  him. 

"  He  saw  that  his  powerful  and  piercing  words  brought 
tears  from  the  eyes,  and  melted  the  hearts  (of  his  hearers)  ; 
but  he  knew  that  would  not  continue  long  upon  them, 
without  God's  grace.  But  by  often  teaching,  at  last  he 
saw  such  signs  of  contrition  in  his  hearers,  that  he  boldly 
expressed  himself  in  St.  Paul's  words,  '  Though  I  be 
not  an  apostle  to  others,  yet  doubtless  I  am  unto  you, 
for  the  seal  of  my  apostleship  are  ye  in  the  Lord.* 
1  Cor.  viii.  2. 

'*  By  this  time  his  family  was  increased,  and  as  that 
increased  God  increased  his  stores,  so  that  he  lived  now  in 
great  credit  among  his  neighbours,  who  were  amazed  to 
find  such  a  wonderful  reformation  in  him  ;  that  from  a 
person  so  vile  as  he  had  been,  should  spring  up  so  good  a 
Christian  ;  and  people  who  had  heard  his  circumstances 
came  many  miles  to  hear  him,  and  were  highly  satisfied  ; 
so  that,  telling  their  neighbours,  more  crowded  after  him, 
insomuch  that  the  place  was  many  times  too  strait  for 
them  ;  for  although  he  often  confessed  he  had  fears  upon 
him,  and  doubts,  and  sometimes  tremblings,  inward  evil 
suggestions  and  temptations,  before  he  stood  up  to  speak, 
yet  he  no  sooner  began  to  utter  the  Word  of  God  than 


268  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

they  all  vanished ;  he  grew  warm  with  a  fervent  zeal,  and 
nothing-  obstructed  his  delivery. 

"  His  congregation,  as  I  said,  increasing,  a  stop  was 
put  to  that  liberty  of  conscience  j  that  is,  freedom  in 
congregating  and  teaching,  which  had  been  indulged  by 
proclamation  in  the  former  part  of  the  reign  of  King 
Charles  II. ;  and  the  penal  laws  against  dissenters  being 
strictly  put  in  execution  against  them,  many  were  en- 
couraged by  rewards  to  inform  against  and  prosecute  those 
that  met. 

"  This  hot  prosecution  silenced  many,  who  fled  because 
they  were  but  hirelings,  and  cared  not  what  became  of 
the  flock  so  they  got  their  fleeces ;  but  our  true  champion 
stood,  resolved  not  to  let  go  what  God  had  so  mercifully 
put  into  his  hands ;  yet  that  he  might  not  appear  con- 
temptuous to  the  government  he  lived  under,  he  thought 
fit  to  move  in  this  with  caution,  and  therefore  assembled 
more  privately,  sometimes  in  a  barn,  at  other  times  in  a 
milk-house  or  stable,  and  indeed  such  convenient  places  as 
they  could,  to  avoid  giving  offence  :  considering  it  is  not 
the  place  that  God  regards,  but  the  purity  of  heart  and 
intention  ;  but  these  places  were  not  so  secret  but  prying 
eyes  got  an  inlet,  and  some  disturbances  they  had  by  the 
order  of  the  justices,  with  louder  threats,  that,  if  they 
repeated  the  like  again,  they  must  expect  to  find  no  favour. 

*'  He  finding  he  could  not  go  on  with  his  proceedings 
here,  resolved,  as  it  was  commanded  the  apostles  in  such 
cases  by  our  blessed  Saviour,  to  fly  unto  another  city  or 
place ;  and  so  acquainting  most  of  his  hearers  whither  he 
intended  to  retire,  many  followed  him,  and  in  his  journey- 
ings  he  visited  many  at  their  houses,  and  gave  them 
consolation,  arming  them  with  a  steady  resolve  to  be 
patient  in  suffering,  and  trust  to  God  for  their  reward,  and 
promised  them  he  would  discuss  some  points  in  that  nature 
at  a  private  meeting,  where  their  joint  prayers  being  put 
up  to  God  miglit  be  more  available. 


LIFE    OF    EUNYAN.  269 

"  In  short,  they  met  one  evening,  to  the  number  of 
about  forty,  yet  could  not  do  it  so  obscurely  but  that  spies 
were  upon  them,  and  a  Justice  in  those  parts  being  informed 
of  it,  came  immediately  upon  them  with  several  constables, 
and  such  as  had  promised  to  be  aiding-  to  them,  and  beset 
the  house  ;  and  upon  the  first  demand  the  doors  were 
opened ;  and  although  Mr.  Bunyan  was  persuaded  (when 
news  was  brought  they  approached)  to  fly  by  a  back  door 
into  an  adjacent  wood,  he  would  not  be  prevailed  withal 
to  do  it  in  so  good  a  work,  but  kept  his  standing,  and  con- 
tinued speaking  to  the  people  when  they  entered.  The 
justice  commanded  him  down  from  his  stand,  but  he  mildly 
told  him  he  was  about  his  Master's  business,  and  must 
rather  obey  his  voice  than  that  of  man.  Then  a  constable 
was  ordered  to  fetch  him  down,  who  coming  up  and  taking 
hold  on  his  coat,  no  sooner  did  Mr.  Bunyan  fix  his  eyes 
steadfastly  upon  him,  having  his  Bible  then  open  in  his 
hand,  but  the  man  let  go,  looked  pale,  and  retired ;  upon 
which  said  he  to  his  auditors,  '  See  how  this  man  trembles 
at  the  Word  of  God  !'  But  knowing  it  in  vain  to  contend, 
being  commanded  in  the  king's  name  to  be  obedient,  he 
came  down,  and  was  carried  to  the  justice's  house,  the  rest 
of  the  people  being  dismissed ;  where  finding  he  must  go 
to  prison,  and  being  startled  a  little  at  that,  more  for  his 
family's  sake  than  his  own  concern,  he  offered  sufficient 
bail  to  appear  and  answer  what  charge  should  be  laid 
against  him,  the  next  Assizes  or  Sessions,  unless  it  would 
be  given  for  his  good  behaviour,  which  was  in  their 
terms — '  That  he  should  teach  no  more  :'  but  rather  than 
any  such  thing  should  be  engaged  on  his  behalf,  that  he 
never  intended  to  keep,  he  resolved  to  cast  himself  and  his 
cause  upon  God,  what  would  come  of  it. 

"  To  be  brief,  though  many  intercessions  and  entreaties 
were  made  on  his  behalf,  he  was  sent  to  Bedford  Jail, 
where  sometimes  he  sighed,  and  sometimes,  with  Paul  and 
Silas,  he  sung  in  prison  psalms  and  hymns  to  his  Maker, 


270  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

that  in  his  good  time  he  would  deliver  him  out  of  all  his 
trouble  ;  and  sent  comfortable  letters  to  his  family,  that 
they  should  not  be  cast  down  at  his  afflictions ;  for  that 
God,  who  had  suffered  him  to  fall  unto  them,  would  deliver 
him  out  of  them. 

"  The  Assizes  come,  among-st  other  prisoners,  he  was 
brought  to  answer  for  himself.  He  declared  he  had 
not,  or  ever  designed  any  injury  or  prejudice  to  the 
government ;  but  his  mean  endeavour  was  to  shew  the 
ignorant  the  way  to  Christ  and  saving  knowledge,  which 
through  mercy  he  hoped  himself  had  found  out,  and 
that  although  he  could  not  comply  with  the  ceremonies 
of  the  Church  of  England,  though  it  was  the  national 
religion,  he  hoped  that  was  no  sin ;  and  as  for  his  doc- 
trine, he  challenged  all  that  had  heard  him,  to  prove  it 
in  any  point  or  particular  disconsonant  to  the  Word  of 
God. 

"  For  they  had  charged  him  as  a  maintainer  and  upholder 
of  rontons  and  riotous  meetings,  unlawful  conventicles  and 
assemblies,  and  not  being  in  conformity  with  the  church 
established ;  and  urged  him  to  know  whether  he  would 
now  conform  or  not,  and  leave  off  for  ever  his  way  of 
teaching  :  but  he  resolutely  refusing  so  do,  and  not  denying 
that  he  had  followed  this  way  for  about  five  years,  they  took 
it,  pro  confessio,  that  he  was  guilty  of  his  charge,  and  pro- 
ceeded, after  they  had  laid  their  heads  together  for  a  time, 
to  pass  upon  him  a  sentence  of  banishment  out  of  the 
kingdom,  not  for  limitation,  but  for  ever :  and  so  he  was 
returned  to  prison,  in  expectation  of  its  being  put  in 
execution.  And  whilst  he  was  suffering  under  this  afflic- 
tion, between  cold  stone  walls,  in  a  close  confinement,  his 
enemies  abroad  were  labouring  to  press  down  and  stifle  his 
reputation  with  calumnies  and  reproaches ;  they  not  only 
reaped  up  what  was  true  of  his  former  wicked  life,  but 
added  many  grievous  things  to  his  charge  that  he  was 
utterly  innocent  and  ignorant  of. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  271 

*'  Under  this  affliction  his  thoughts  were  many  times 
various,  and  fears  broke  in  upon  him,  for  he  knew  not 
but,  by  the  same  rule  they  had  power  to  banish  him,  they 
might  cause  him  to  be  executed ;  and  this  was  buzzed  into 
his  ears  by  one  of  his  jailers,  thinking  by  this  means  to 
oblige  him  to  raise  a  sum  of  money  among  his  friends 
abroad,  to  purchase  a  reprieve  or  pardon,  and  that  then  he 
might  come  in  for  snack  :  yet  he  prepared  for  the  worst, 
and  resolved,  if  it  came  to  be  his  hard  fortune,  by  the 
assistance  of  God,  he  would  die  like  a  valiant  Christian  in 
such  a  cause.  But  when  he  came  up  to  these  resolves,  the 
care  of  his  family  would  come  upon  him,  and  with  a  feeble 
tenderness  disarm  him  of  his  resolution,  so  that  he  would 
be  at  a  stand,  to  think  what  would  become  of  his  wife  and 
poor  children,  if  he  were  taken  away  from  them,  one  of  his 
children  especially  being  blind  and  helpless  :  yet  in  the  end, 
growing  full  of  courage,  and  finding  his  former  weakness 
but  a  temptation  of  Satan,  he  confirmed  himself  to  seal  his 
testimony,  which  way  soever  he  should  be  called  unto  it. 
But  having,  in  expectation  of  the  issue,  continued  upwards 
of  twelve  years,  where  he  writ  some  good  books,  and  found 
abundance  of  God's  goodness  to  his  soul,  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Barlow,  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  coming  into  those  parts,  and 
being  truly  informed  of  Mr.  Bunyan's  sufferings,  he,  out 
of  a  true  Christian  compassion,  took  a  speedy  care  to  be 
the  main  and  chief  instrument  in  his  deliverance ;  for 
which,  as  a  hearty  acknowledgment,  Mr.  Bunyan  returned 
him  his  unfeigned  thanks,  and  often  remembered  him  in 
his  prayers,  as,  next  to  God,  his  deliverer." 

This  account,  although  imperfect,  is  worthy  of  preserva- 
tion ;  for  if  it  did  not  come  from  the  pen  of  his  Cambridge 
convert,  it  was  written  by  an  Episcopal  Clergyman,  and  is 
thus  still  more  interesting,  because  the  author  was  under 
no  obligations  to  defend  Bunyan. 

Bunyan's  own  Narrative  of  these  events,  is  in  his  best 
style.     It  will  shew,  indeed,  that  he  had  undue  prejudices 


27^  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN 

against  the  Liturgy  ;  but  it  will  not  prove  him  to  have 
been  a  "  high-minded,"  nor  a  "  hot-minded  man,"  in  the 
sense  Dr.  Southey  has  called  him  so.  He  was  too  high- 
minded  to  submit  to  dictation,  as  to  how  he  should  pray, 
or  where  he  should  preach ;  and  too  hot-minded  (for  his 
*'  heart  had  been  kindled  at  the  Book  of  Martyrs,"  Dr. 
Southey  says)  to  heed  the  ban  of  a  Bench,  or  the  opinion 
of  a  Squirearchy,  in  matters  of  conscience  and  duty.  And 
he  was  right !  For,  what  is  the  humour  of  a  Court,  the 
authority  of  a  Conclave,  or  the  whim  of  a  Magistrate, 
when  they  interdict  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel  ?  Imperti- 
nences to  be  despised  by  all  free-men,  and  to  be  calmly 
defied  by  all  conscientious  men.  Bunyan  did  both  ; — and 
was  thej^r*^  to  do  so  in  Bedfordshire. 

This  fact, — that  he  was  the  first, — although  not  over- 
looked by  his  Biographers,  has  never  been  placed  in  a 
proper  light,  by  any  of  them  ;  and  yet  it  is  the  heTj  to  both 
his  doings  and  darings  on  this  occasion.  He  was  not 
acting  for  himself  alone,  nor  for  his  Church  in  Bedford 
only ;  but  for  the  whole  body  of  his  adherents  and 
converts  throughout  the  wide  range  of  his  Itineracy.  He 
felt  this,  and  nobly  resolved  to  set  them  an  example  of 
unflinching  steadfastness.  For  his  village  flocks  did  not  ap- 
pear to  him,  what  Dr.  Southey  calls  them,  "  Conventicles" 
for  diffusing  "  abhorrence  of  the  Protestant  Church ;"  but 
for  the  diffusion  of  the  great  Protestant  doctrine  of 
Salvation,  "  by  grace,  through  faith."  By  preaching  this 
doctrine  in  the  villages,  Bunyan  had  won  many  hearts  to 
love  Christ  and  Holiness  ;  and  that  he  might  keep  all  he 
had  won,  he  was  ready  to  sacrifice  himself  in  the  service  of 
their  faith.  He  reasoned  with  himself  thus, — "  I  havej 
shewed  myself  hearty  and  courageous  in  my  preaching, 
and  made  it  my  business  to  encourage  others  :  if,  therefore, 
I  should  run  now,  and  make  an  escape,  it  will,  thought  I, 
be  of  a  very  ill  savour  in  the  country.  For  what  will  my 
weak  and  newly  converted  brethren  think  of  it ; — but  that 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  273 

I  was  not  so  strong  in  deed^  as  I  was  in  word  ?  Also  I 
feared  that,  if  I  should  run  now  there  was  a  warrant  out 
for  me,  I  might,  by  so  doing,  make  them  afraid  to  stand, 
when  great  words  only  should  be  spoken  to  them.  Besides, 
I  thought  that  (seeing  God,  of  his  mercy,  had  chose  me  to 
go  upon  the  Forlorn  Hope  in  this  country),  if  I  should  fly, 
it  might  be  a  discouragement  to  the  whole  body  that  might 
follow  after  ;  I  being  (chosen)  to  be  the  first  that  should 
be  opposed  for  the  Gospel."  This  was  Bunyan's  chief 
I  reason  for  refusing  to  concede  to  Law^  or  Advice,  one  iota 
of  the  rights  of  conscience. 

He  had  also  public  reasons  for  making  a  determined 
stand.  "  I  thought  further.  If  I  fly,  the  world  will  take 
occasion  at  my  cowardliness  to  blaspheme  the  Gospel,  and 
have  some  ground  to  suspect  worse  of  me  and  my  profes- 
sion than  I  deserved :  for,  blessed  be  the  Lord,  I  knew  of 
no  evil  I  had  said  or  done."  Bunyan  was  not  over-rating 
himself,  when  he  "  thus  judged :"  for,  although  still  a 
Tinker,  he  had  more  influence  as  a  Minister  than  the 
Bishop  of  the  diocese.  His  hammer  had  more  moral 
weight  than  the  Crozier,  and  his  kit  than  the  Mitre.  He 
^vas  no  obscure  nor  uninfluential  man,  although  still  a 
very  poor  man  ;  and  both  the  State  and  the  Church  knew 
this,  when  they  singled  him  out  as  one  of  their  first 
victims :  for  he  was  apprehended  befoi-e  any  Proclamation 
against  the  meetings  was  issued. 

But  it  is  high  time  to  allow  Bunyan  to  tell  his  own 
story  :  for  no  man  could  tell  it  so  well.  *'  In  November, 
1660,"  (only  five  months  after  the  return  of  the  King,)  "  I 
was  desired  by  some  of  the  friends  in  the  country  to  come 
to  teach  at  Samsell,  by  Harlington,  in  Bedfordshire.  To 
whom  I  made  a  promise,  if  the  Lord  permitted,  to  be  with 
them  at  the  time  aforesaid.  The  justice  hearing  thereof 
(whose  name  is  Mr.  Francis  Wingate),  forthwith  issued 
out  his  warrant  to  take  me,  and  bring  me  before  him,  and 
in  the  mean  time  to  keep  a  very  strong  watch  about  the 

N  N 


274  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

house  where  the  meeting  should  be  kept ; — as  if  we  that 
were  to  meet  together  in  that  place  did  intend  to  do  some 
fearful  business,  to  the  destruction  of  the  country  ;  when 
alas,  the  constable  when  he  came  in,  found  us  only  with 
our  Bibles  in  our  hands,  ready  to  speak  and  Hear  the  word 
of  God ;  for  we  were  just  about  to  begin  our  exercise. 
Nay,  we  had  begun  in  prayer  for  the  blessing  of  God  upon 
our  opportunity,  I  intending  to  have  preached  the  word  of 
the  Lord  unto  them  there  present."  (The  text  he  proposed 
to  have  preached  from  was  John  ix.  34,  "  Dost  thou  believe 
on  the  Son  of  God?")  "  But  the  constable  coming  in  pre- 
vented us.  So  that  I  was  taken,  and  forced  to  depart  the 
room.  But  had  I  been  minded  to  have  played  the  coward, 
I  could  have  escaped,  and  kept  out  of  his  hands.  For  when 
I  was  come  to  my  friend's  house,  there  was  whispering 
there  on  that  day  I  should  be  taken,  for  there  was  a 
warrant  out  to  take  me ;  which  when  my  friend  heard,  he 
being  somewhat  timorous,  questioned  whether  we  had  best 
have  our  meeting  or  not :  and  whether  it  might  not  be 
better  for  me  to  depart,  lest  they  should  take  me  and  have 
me  before  the  justice,  and  after  that  send  me  to  prison  (for 
he  knew  better  than  I  what  spirit  they  were  of,  living  by 
them),  to  whom  I  said,  *  No  ;  by  no  means,  I  will  not  stir, 
neither  will  I  have  the  meeting  dismissed  for  this.  Come, 
be  of  good  cheer,  let  us  not  be  daunted,  our  cause  is  good  ; 
we  need  not  be  ashamed  of  it ;  to  preach  God's  word,  is  so 
good  a  work,  that  we  shall  be  well  rewarded,  if  we  suffer 
for  that;'  or  to  this  purpose. — (But  as  for  my  friend,  I 
think  he  was  more  afraid  of  me,  than  of  himself.)  After 
this  I  walked  into  the  close,  seriously  considering  the 
matter." 

Whilst  in  the  close,  he  pondered  deeply  his  responsibility 
to  the  world  and  the  Church,  as  we  have  seen.  "  These 
things,  with  others,"  he  says,  "  being  considered  by  me,  I 
came  in  again  to  the  house,  with  a  full  resolution  to  keep 
the  meeting,  and  not  to  go  away,  though  I  could  have  been 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  275 

gone  about  an  hour  before  the  officer  apprehended  me,  but 
I  would  not ;  for  I  was  resolved  to  see  the  utmost  of  what 
they  could  say  or  do  unto  me.  And  so,  as  aforesaid,  I 
begun  the  meeting-.  But  being  prevented  by  the  con- 
stable's coming  in  with  his  warrant  to  take  me,  I  could 
not  proceed.  But  before  I  went  away,  I  spake  some  few 
words  of  counsel  and  encouragement  to  the  people,  de- 
claring to  them,  that  they  saw  we  were  prevented  of  our 
opportunity  to  speak  and  hear  the  word  of  God,  and  were 
like  to  suffer  for  the  same  :  desiring  them  that  they  would 
not  be  discouraged ;  for  it  was  a  mercy  to  suffer  upon  so 
good  account ;  for  we  might  have  been  apprehended  as 
thieves  or  murderers,  or  for  other  wickedness  ;  but  blessed 
be  God  it  was  not  so,  but  we  suffered  as  Christians  for  well 
doing ;  and  we  had  better  be  the  persecuted,  than  the 
persecutors.  But  the  constable  and  the  Justice's  man 
waiting  on  us,  would  not  be  quiet  till  they  had  me  away, 
and  that  we  departed  the  house.  But  because  the  Justice 
was  not  at  home  that  day,  there  was  a  friend  of  mine 
engaged  for  me  to  bring  me  to  the  constable  on  the  morrow 
morning.  Otherwise  the  constable  must  have  charged  a 
watch  with  me,  or  secured  me  some  other  way,  my  crime 
was  so  great.  So  on  the  next  morning  we  went  to  the 
constable,  and  so  to  the  justice.  He  asked  the  constable. 
What  we  did  ? — where  we  were  met  together  ? — and,  what 
we  had  with  us?  I  trow,  he  meant,  whether  we  had 
armour  or  not;  but  when  the  constable  told  him  that  there 
were  only  met  a  few  of  us  together  to  preach  and  hear  the 
word,  and  no  sigyi  of  any  thing  else,  he  could  not  well  tell 
what  to  say :  yet  because  he  had  sent  for  me,  he  did 
adventure  to  put  out  a  few  proposals  to  me,  which  were  to 
this  effect ;  namely,  What  I  did  there  ?  And  why  I  did  not 
content  myself  with  following  my  calling  :  for  it  was  against 
the  law,  that  such  as  I  should  be  admitted  to  do  as  I  did  ? 
"  BuNYAN.  To  which  I  answered,  that  the  intent  of  my 
coming  thither,  and  to  other  places,  was  to  instruct,  and 


276  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

counsel  people  to  forsake  their  sins,  and  close  in  with 
Christ,  lest  they  did  miserably  perish  ;  and  that  I  could  do 
both  these  without  confusion,  (to  wit)  follow  my  calling, 
and  preach  the  word  also, 

"At  which  words,  he  was  in  a  cnafe,  as  it  appeared  ; 
for  he  said  that  he  would  break  the  neck  of  our  meetings. 

"  Bun.  I  said,  It  may  be  so.  Then  he  wished  me  to 
get  sureties  to  be  bound  for  me,  or  else  he  would  send  me 
to  the  jail. 

"  My  sureties  being  ready,  I  called  them  in,  and  when 
the  bond  for  my  appearance  was  made,  he  told  them,  that 
they  were  bound  to  keep  me  from  preaching ;  and  that  if 
I  did  preach,  their  bonds  would  be  forfeited.  To  which  I 
answered,  that  then  I  should  break  them  ;  for  I  should  not 
leave  speaking  the  word  of  God,  to  counsel,  comfort, 
exhort,  and  teach  the  people  among  whom  I  came ;  and  I 
thought  this  to  be  a  work  that  had  no  hurt  in  it ;  but  was 
rather  worthy  of  commendation,  than  blame. 

"  WiNGATE.  Whereat  he  told  me,  that  if  they  would 
not  be  so  bound,  my  mittimus  must  be  made,  and  I  sent  to 
the  jail,  there  to  lie  to  the  quarter-sessions. 

"  Now  while  my  mittimus  was  making,  the  Justice  was 
withdrawn  ;  and  in  comes  an  old  enemy  to  the  truth.  Dr. 
Lindale,  who  when  he  was  come  in,  fell  to  taunting  at  me 
with  many  reviling  terms. 

"  Bun.  To  whom  I  answered,  that  I  did  not  come 
thither  to  talk  with  him,  but  with  the  Justice.  Whereat  ho 
supposed  that  I  had  nothing  to  say  for  myself,  and 
triumphed  as  if  he  had  got  the  victory ;  charging  and 
condemning  me  for  meddling  with  that  for  which  I  could 
shew  no  warrant.  And  asked  me,  if  I  had  taken  the 
oaths  ?  and  if  I  had  not,  'twas  pity  but  that  I  should  be 
sent  to  prison. 

"  I  told  him,  that  if  I  was  minded,  I  could  answer 
to  any  sober  question  that  he  should  put  to  me.  He 
then  urged  me  again  (how  I   could  prove  it  lawful  for 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  277 

ine  to  preach),  with  a  great  deal  of  confidence  of  the 
victory. 

"  But  at  last,  because  he  should  see  that  I  could  answer 
bun  if  I  listed,  I  cited  to  him  that  verse  in  Peter,  which 

lith,  '  As  every  man  hath  received  the  gift,  even  so  let 
him  minister  the  same/  &c. 

"  LiNDALE.  Aye,  saith  he,  to  whom  is  that  spoken  ? 

'*  Bun.  To  whom,  said  I,  why  to  every  man  that  hath 
received  a  gift  from  God.  Mark,  saith  the  apostle,  '  As 
every  man  hath  received  a  gift  from  God,'  &c.  And  again, 
'  You  may  all  prophesy  one  by  one.*  Whereat  the  man 
was  a  little  stopt,  and  went  a  softlier  pace  :  but  not  being 
Avilling  to  lose  the  day,  he  began  again,  and  said : 

"  LiND.  Indeed  I  do  remember  that  I  have  read  of  one 
Alexander  a  coppersmith,  who  did  much  oppose,  and 
disturb  the  apostles.  (Aiming  *tis  like  at  me,  because  I 
was  a  tinker.) 

"  Bun.  To  which  I  answered,  that  I  also  had  read  of 
veri/  many  priests  and  pharisees,  that  had  their  hands  in 
the  blood  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

"  LiND.  Aye,  saith  he,  and  you  are  one  of  those  scribes 
and  pharisees  :  for  you,  with  a  pretence,  make  long  prayers 
to  devour  widows'  houses. 

"  Bun.  I  answered,  that  if  he  had  got  no  more  by 
preaching  and  praying  than  I  had  done,  he  would  not  be 
so  rich  as  now  he  was.  But  that  scripture  coming  into 
my  mind,  '  Answer  not  a  fool  according  to  his  folly,'  I 
was  as  sparing  of  my  speech  as  I  could,  without  prejudice 
to  truth. 

"  Now  by  this  time  my  mittimus  was  made,  and  I  com- 
mitted to  the  constable  to  be  sent  to  the  jail  in  Bedford. 

"  But  as  I  was  going,  two  of  my  brethren  met  with  me  by 
the  way,  and  desired  the  constable  to  stay,  supposing  that 
they  should  prevail  with  the  Justice,  through  the  favour  of  a 
pretended  friend,  to  let  me  go  at  liberty.  So  we  did  stay, 
while  they  went  to  the  Justice,  and  after  much  discourse 


278  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

with  him,  it  came  to  this ;  that  if  I  would  come  to  him 
again,  and  say  some  certain  words  to  him,  I  should  be 
released.  Which  when  they  told  me,  I  said,  if  the  words 
were  such  that  might  be  said  with  a  good  conscience,  I 
should,  or  else  I  should  not.  So  through  their  importunity 
I  went  back  again,  but  not  believing  that  I  should  be 
delivered  :  for  I  feared  their  spirit  was  too  full  of  opposition 
to  the  truth,  to  let  me  go,  unless  I  should,  in  something  or 
other,  dishonour  my  God,  and  wound  my  conscience. 
Wherefore  as  I  went,  I  lifted  up  my  heart  to  God,  for 
light,  and  strength,  to  be  kept,  that  I  might  not  do  any 
thing  that  might  either  dishonour  him,  or  wrong  my  own 
soul,  or  be  a  grief  or  discouragement  to  any  that  was 
inclining  after  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

"  Well,  when  I  came  to  the  Justice  again,  there  was 
Mr.  Foster,  of  Bedford,  who  coming  out  of  another  room, 
and  seeing  me  by  the  light  of  the  candle  (for  it  was  dark 
night  when  I  went  thither)  he  said  unto  me,  who  is  there, 
John  Bunyan  ? — with  such  seeming  affection,  as  if  he  would 
have  leaped  on  my  neck  and  kissed  me,  (a  7^ight  Judas  f) 
which  made  me  somewhat  wonder,  that  such  a  man  as  he, 
with  whom  I  had  so  little  acquaintance,  and  besides,  that 
had  ever  been  a  close  opposer  of  the  ways  of  God,  should 
carry  himself  so  full  of  love  to  me :  but  afterwards,  when  I 
saw  what  he  did,  it  caused  me  to  remember  those  sayings, 
'  Their  tongues  are  smoother  than  oil,  but  their  words  are 
drawn  swords.'  And  again,  '  Beware  of  men,'  &c.  When 
I  had  answered  him,  that  blessed  be  God  I  was  well,  he 
said,  '  What  is  the  occasion  of  your  being  here  ?'  or  to  that 
purpose.  To  whom  I  answered,  that  I  was  at  a  meeting 
of  people  a  little  way  off,  intending  to  speak  a  word  of 
exhortation  to  them ;  but  the  Justice  hearing  thereof 
(said  I)  was  pleased  to  send  his  warrant  to  fetch  me  before 
him. 

"  Foster.  So  (said  he)  I  understand  :  but  well,  if  you 
will  promise  to  call  the  people  no  more  together,  you  shall 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  279 

have  your  liberty  to  go  home  ;  for  my  brother  is  very  loath 
to  send  you  to  prison,  if  you  will  be  but  ruled. 

"  Bun.  Sir,  (said  I)  pray  what  do  you  mean  by  calling- 
the  people  together  ?  My  business  is  not  any  thing  among 
them,  when  they  are  come  together,  but  to  exhort  them  to 
look  after  the  salvation  of  their  souls,  that  they  may  be 
saved,  &c. 

"  FosT.  Saith  he,  we  must  not  enter  into  explication,  or 
dispute  now ;  but  if  you  will  say  you  will  call  the  people 
no  more  together,  you  may  have  your  liberty ;  if  not,  you 
must  be  sent  away  to  prison. 

"  Bun.  Sir,  said  I,  I  shall  not  force  or  compel  any  man 
to  hear  me,  but  yet  if  I  come  into  any  place  where  there 
are  people  met  together,  I  should,  according  to  the  best  of 
my  skill  and  wisdom,  exhort  and  counsel  them  to  seek  out 
after  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  for  the  salvation  of  their 
souls. 

"  FosT.  He  said,  that  was  none  of  my  work :  I  must 
follow  my  calling ;  and  if  I  would  but  leave  off  preaching, 
and  follow  my  calling,  I  should  have  the  Justice's  favour, 
and  be  acquitted  presently. 

*'  Bun.  To  whom  I  said,  that  I  could  follow  my  calling 
and  that  too,  namely,  preaching  the  word :  and  I  did  look 
upon  it  as  my  duty  to  do  them  both,  as  I  had  an 
opportunity. 

"  FosT.  He  said,  to  have  any  such  meetings  was  against 
the  law ;  and  therefore  he  would  have  me  leave  off,  and 
say,  I  would  call  the  people  no  more  together. 

"  Bun.  To  whom  I  said,  that  I  durst  not  make  any  further 
promise  :  for  my  conscience  would  not  suifer  me  to  do  it. 
And  again,  I  did  look  upon  it  as  my  duty  to  do  as  much 
good  as  I  could,  not  only  in  my  trade,  but  also  in  com- 
municating to  all  people  wheresoever  I  came,  the  best 
knowledge  I  had  in  the  word. 

'*  FosT.  He  told  me,  that  I  was  the  nearest  the  Papists 
of  any  ;  and  that,  he  would  convince  me  of  immediately. 


280  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

*'  Bun.  I  asked  him  wherein? 

"  FosT.  He  said,  in  that  we  understood  the  Scriptures 
literally. 

"  Bun.  I  told  him,  that  those  that  were  to  be  understood 
literally  we  understood  them  so  ;  but  for  those  that  were 
to  be  understood  otherwise,  we  endeavoured  so  to  under- 
stand them. 

"  FosT.  He  said.  Which  of  the  scriptures  do  you  under- 
stand literally  ? 

"  Bun.  I  said,  This,  '  He  that  believes  shall  be  saved.' 
This  was  to  be  understood,  just  as  it  is  spoken  j  that 
whosoever  believeth  in  Christ,  shall,  according  to  the 
plain  and  simple  words  of  the  text,  be  saved. 

"  FosT.  He  said,  that  I  was  ignorant,  and  did  not 
understand  the  Scriptures  j  for  how  (said  he)  can  you 
understand  them,  when  you  know  not  the  original  Greek  ? 

"  Bun.  To  whom  I  said,  that  if  that  were  his  opinion, 
that  none  could  understand  the  Scriptures,  but  those  that 
had  the  original  Greek,  then  but  a  very  few  of  the  poorer 
sort  would  be  saved,  (this  is  harsh)  yet  the  Scripture  saith, 
'  That  God  hides  these  things  from  the  wise  and  prudent  * 
(that  is,  from  the  learned  of  the  world),  '  and  reveals  them 
to  babes  and  sucklings.' 

"  FosT.  He  said  there  were  none  that  heard  me,  but  a 
company  o^ foolish  people. 

'  Bun.  1  told  him  that  there  were  the  wise  as  well  as 
the  foolish  that  did  hear  me ;  and  again,  those  that  were 
most  commonly  counted  foolish  by  the  world,  were  the 
wisest  before  God.  Also,  that  God  had  rejected  the  wise, 
and  mighty,  and  noble,  and  chosen  the  foolish  and  the  base. 

*'  FosT.  He  told  me,  that  I  made  people  neglect  their 
calling ;  and  that  God  had  commanded  people  to  work  six 
days,  and  serve  him  on  the  seventh. 

"  Bun.  I  told  him  that  it  was  the  duty  of  people  (both 
rich  and  poor),  to  look  out  for  their  souls  on  those 
days,   as  well  as  for  their   bodies :    and  that  God  would 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  281 

have  his  people  '  exhort  one  another  daily  while  it  is 
called  to-day.* 

"  FosT.  He  said  again,  that  there  were  none  but  a 
company  of  poor,  simple,  ignorant  people,  that  came  to 
hear  me. 

"  Bun.  I  told  him  that  the  foolish  and  the  ignorant  had 
most  need  of  teaching  and  information ;  and  therefore  it 
would  be  profitable  for  me  to  go  on  in  that  work. 

"  FosT.  Well,  said  he,  to  conclude,  but  will  you  promise 
that  you  will  not  call  the  people  together  any  more  ? — and 
then  you  may  be  released,  and  go  home. 

"  Bun.  I  told  him,  that  I  durst  say  no  more  than  I  had 
said.  For  I  durst  not  leave  off  that  work  which  God  had 
called  me  to. 

"  So  he  withdrew  from  me,  and  then  came  several  of 
the  justice's  servants  to  me,  and  told  me,  that  I  stood  too 
much  upon  a  nicety.  Their  master,  they  said,  was  willing 
to  let  me  go  ;  and  if  I  would  but  say  I  would  call  the 
people  no  more  together,  I  might  have  my  liberty. 

*'  Bun.  I  told  them,  there  were  more  ways  than  one  in 
which  a  man  might  be  said  to  call  the  people  together. 
As  for  instance,  if  a  man  get  upon  the  market-place,  and 
there  read  a  book,  or  the  like,  though  he  do  not  say  to 
the  people.  Sirs,  come  hither  and  hear :  yet  if  they  come 
to  him  because  he  reads,  he,  by  his  very  reading,  may  be 
said  to  call  them  together ;  because  they  would  not  have 
been  there  to  hear,  if  he  had  not  been  there  to  read.  And 
seeing  this  might  be  termed  a  calling  the  people  together, 
I  durst  not  say,  I  would  not  call  them  together  ;  for  then, 
by  the  same  argument,  my  preaching  might  be  said  to  call 
them  together. 

"  Then  came  the  Justice  and  Mr.  Foster  to  me  again 
(we  had  a  little  more  discourse  about  preaching,  but 
because  the  method  of  it  is  out  of  ray  mind,  I  pass  it)  and 
when  they  saw  that  I  was  at  a  pointy  and  would  not  be 
moved  nor  persuaded,  Mr.  Foster  told  the  justice,  that 
o  o 


282 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


then  he  must  send  me  away  to  prison.  And  that  he 
would  do  well  also,  if  he  would  present  all  those  that  were 
the  cause  of  my  coming  among  them  to  meetings.  Thus 
we  parted. 

"  And  verily  as  I  was  going  forth  of  the  doors,  I  had 
much  ado  to  forbear  saying  to  them,  that  I  carried  the 
peace  of  God  along  with  me  :  but  I  held  my  peace,  and 
blessed  be  the  Lord,  went  away  to  prison  with  God's 
comfort  in  my  poor  soul ! 

'*  After  I  had  lain  in  the  jail  five  or  six  days,  the 
brethren  sought  means  again  to  get  me  out  by  bondsmen 
(for  so  ran  niy  mittimus,  that  1  should  lie  there  till  I 
could  find  sureties)  ;  they  went  to  a  justice  at  Elstow,  one 
Mr,  Crompton,  to  desire  him  to  take  bond  for  my  appear- 
ing at  the  quarter  sessions.  At  the  first  he  told  them 
he  would,  but  afterwards  he  made  a  demur  at  the  business, 
and  desired  first  to  see  my  mittimus  which  ran  to  this 
purpose ;  That  I  went  about  to  several  conventicles  in  the 
county,  to  the  great  disparagement  of  the  government  of 
the  church  of  England,  &c.  When  he  had  seen  it,  he  said 
there  might  be  something  more  against  me,  than  was 
expressed  in  my  mittimus :  and  that  he  was  but  a  young 
man,  therefore  he  durst  not  do  it.  This  my  jailor  told 
me.  Whereat  I  was  not  at  all  daunted,  but  rather  (jlad, 
and  saw  evidently  that  the  Lord  had  heard  me ;  for  before 
I  went  down  to  the  justice,  I  begged  of  God  that  if  I 
might  do  more  good  by  being  at  liberty  than  in  prison, 
that  then  I  might  be  set  at  liberty :  but  if  not,  his  will  be 
done  ;  for  I  was  not  altogether  without  hopes,  but  that 
my  imprisonment  might  be  an  awakening  to  the  saints  in 
the  country,  therefore  I  could  not  tell  well  which  to  choose. 
Only  I  in  that  manner  did  commit  the  thing  to  God. 
And  verily  at  my  return,  I  did  meet  my  God  sweetly 
in  the  prison  again,  comforting  of  me  and  satisfying 
of  me  that  it  was  his  will  and  mind  that  I  should  be 
there. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  283 

"  When  I  came  back  again  to  prison,  as  I  was  musing- 
at  the  slender  answer  of  the  Justice,  this  word  dropt  in 
upon  my  heart  with  some  life,  '  For  he  knew  that  for  envy 
they  had  delivered  him.' 

•'  Thus  have  I  in  short,  declared  the  manner,  and  occasion 
of  my  being  in  prison ;  where  I  lie  waiting  the  good  will 
of  God,  to  do  with  me,  as  he  pleaseth  ;  knowing  that  not 
one  hair  of  my  head  can  fall  to  the  ground  without  the 
will  of  my  Father  which  is  in  heaven.  Let  the  rage  and 
malice  of  men  be  never  so  great,  they  can  do  no  more, 
nor  go  any  farther  than  God  permits  them  ;  but  when 
they  have  done  their  worst,  *  We  know  all  things  shall 
work  togethei  for  good  to  them  that  love  God.'  Itom. 
viii.  28." 

Of  their  Worships  who  figure  on  this  occasion,  not  much 
is  known,  except  of  Justice  Foster.  I  have  been  able  to 
trace  that  "  right  Judas,"  as  Bunyan  calls  him,  throughout 
a  persecution  which  he  headed  against  the  Bedford  Non- 
conformists in  1670.  The  account  of  him  will  be  found 
in  the  Chapter,  "  Bunyan's  Church  Persecuted ;"  and  it 
will  verify  the  oracle,  that  "  evil  men  and  seducers  wax 
worse  and  worse."  Foster  began  as  a  Judas,  and  ended  as 
a  Herod.  Dr.  Lindale  was  evidently  a  beneficed  Clergy- 
man, and  of  Bedford  too.  He  could  not  otherwise  have 
taken  such  a  lead  in  the  examination  of  Bunyan.  And  as 
he  was  an  "  old  enemy  of  the  Truth,"  and  now  a  new 
enemy  of  its  Preachers,  the  law  which  made  it  obligatory 
to  attend  that  man's  Ministry,  or  that  of  men  like  him, 
was  an  insult  to  both  conscience  and  common-sense.  Who 
can  wonder  that  the  Nonconformists,  who  had  heard  or  read 
the  sermons  of  the  Owens  and  Baxters,  the  Howes  and 
Bunyans,  of  the  Commonwealth,  refused  to  hear  at  all, 
not  a  i^w  of  the  priesthood  of  the  Restoration  ?  Let  us 
judge  righteous  judgment !  All  evangelical  Churchmen  of 
the  present  day  would  disobey  any  law,  which  attempted 
to    bind    them  to    hear   Puseyite   Popery,   or    Haivkerite 


284  I.IFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Antinomianism.  Their  consciences  would  not  brook  such 
an  outrage  on  Truth.  Well ;  the  Pelagianism  of  the 
Restoration,  was  just  as  abhorrent  to  the  Nonconformists 
then,  as  the  Oxford  Tracts  are  to  sound  Churchmen  now. 
True ;  the  Dissenters  disliked  Episcopacy  as  much  as 
Pelagianism,  and  did  not  believe  in  the  apostolicity  of 
such  Doctors  as  Lindale,  nor  in  the  authority  of  such 
Bishops  as  Laud :  but,  do  not  Churchmen  dislike  Inde- 
pendency, and  disbelieve  the  apostolic  descent  of  the 
Puseyites?  No  law  could  alter  their  opinion  of  these 
things,  much  as  they  revere  magisterial  authority  in 
Religion.  Tens  of  thousands  of  them  would  remain  Epi- 
scopalians, if  either  Presbyterianism  or  Independency  were 
established  in  England  to-morrow.  Thus  they  would  just 
do  what  the  Nonconformists  of  Bunyan's  times  did, — obey 
only  as  they  believe,  in  matters  of  Religion.  Bunyan  went 
to  prison  in  the  very  same  spirit  as  the  Bishops  went  to 
the  Tower  afterwards.  Why  then  should  he  be  held  up  as 
unreasonable  or  contumacious?  His  conscience  was  just 
as  good,  and  as  worthy  of  respect,  as  Archbishop  Sancroft's ; 
and  Bunyan  and  his  fellow  prisoners  had  just  as  much 
influence  upon  the  Protestantism  of  the  poor,  as  '*  The 
Seven  Golden  Candlesticks  "  had  on  that  of  the 
aristocracy. 

These  remarks  are  hung  upon  Lindale's  horns,  because 
his  character  is  not  unknown,  although  his  history  cannot 
be  given  :  for  it  was  evidently  Dr.  Lindale,  whom  Bunyan 
cut  up  into  the  several  Witnesses  who  gave  evidence  against 
Faithful,  before  Lord  Hategood,  at  Vanity  Fair.  Envy, 
Superstition,  and  Pickthank,  are  only  aliases  of  Lindale. 
Had  this  pillorying  unto  all  posterity  been  understood,  it 
would  have  deterred  other  Doctors,  and  Bishop  Fowler 
among  the  rest,  from  connecting  their  names  with  ill- 
natured  sarcasms  upon  John  Bunyan.  The  man  who  does 
that,  puts  himself  into  a  life-boat,  which  will  land  none  of 
its  passengers,  until  the  heavens  and  the  earth  be  no  more. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  285 

Even  the  man  who  "  blows  hot  and  cold,"  on  Biinyan's 
memory,  cannot  g-et  out.  Dr.  Owen  had  a  very  narrow 
escape  from  being  taken  into  this  boat,  when  the  strict 
Baptists  persuaded  him  to  *'  waive "  his  promise  of  pre- 
facing- Bunyan's  work  on  Communion. 

It  is  thus  a  serious  matter  to  tamper  with  the  men  who, 
"  like  the  first  Lion,  paw  themselves  out  of  the  earth," 
by  their  own  unearthly  power,  and  then  shake  the  whole 
forest  of  society  by  their  first  majestic  roar.  The  hand 
that  touches  their  mane  in  scorn  or  wantonness,  may  not 
wither  ;  but  it  contracts  a  leprous  spot  which  lasts  for  ever. 
Dr.  Johnson  touched  Milton  thus ;  and  he  must  bear  the 
marks  of  his  presumption  until  Milton  be  forgotten.  Even 
Brougham  perilled  himself  at  the  University  of  Glasgow, 
by  not  naming  Milton  amongst  the  masters  and  models  of 
eloquence,  in  his  Inaugural  Discourse.  This  oversight 
would  have  been  unpardonable,  had  not  the  Lord  Rector 
made  Milton  his  own  model,  whilst  commending  Hooker 
and  Taylor  to  the  students.  But  of  all  who  have  suffered 
for  such  tampering  with  the  Mighty,  Bishop  Hall,  our 
theological  Seneca,  is  most  to  be  pitied.  For,  whether 
it  was  his  son  or  himself  who  denounced  Milton  as  a 
"  miscreant  wretch,"  the  cry  "  Stone  him  to  death,"  came 
from  the  palace  of  Norwich.  This  may  easily  be  forgiven 
to  the  author  of  the  "  Contemplations  ;"  but  it  can  never 
be  forgotten. 


286  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

bunyan's  trial. 
1661. 

BuNYAN  was  tried  by  Jive  Justices,  whose  names  will  be  as 
widely  known  and  as  imperishable  as  "  The  Five  Points," 
although  for  other  reasons.  Keeling-,  Chester,  Blundale, 
Beechir,  and  Snagg,  will  be  re<i-letter  names  for  ever,  in 
the  Almanac  of  Persecution.  Dr.  Southey  has  not  at  all 
removed  them  from  this 


"  Bad 


eminence, 


nor  made  their  standing  more  honourable,  by  declaring 
that  he  felt  "  bound'^  to  say,  "  that  Bunyan  has  been  most 
wrongfully  represented  as  having  been  the  victim  of  in- 
tolerant laws,  and  prelatical  oppression."  These  Justices 
were  both  the  interpreters  and  representatives  of  Law  and 
Prelacy ;  and  as  he  has  neither  shewn  that  they  went 
beyond  their  commission,  nor  that  they  disgraced  it,  even 
when  they  said  that  Bunyan's  god  was  Beelzebub,  and  his 
spirit  the  Devil,  both  Law  and  Prelacy  as  they  then 
reigned,  must  now  stand  with  them.  One  of  them,  Sir 
George  Blundale,  could  cudgel  Nonconformists,  as  well  as 
question,  insult,  and  fine  them,  when  Informers  brought 
them  before  him  at  his  own  house  : — like  his  friend  Foster, 
who  signalized  himself,  at  the  same  time,  by  well  nigh 
ruining  a  poor  pipe-maker ;  and  then  telling  him,  that  his 
children  "  must  starve,''  if  he  continued  *'  a  rebel."     See 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  287 

the  Chapter, — "  Bunyan's  Church  Persecuted."  Justice 
Chester  did  all  he  could  to  set  Sir  Matthew  Hale  against 
Bunyan.  Keeling,  the  Judge  in  this  junto,  could  ape  both 
the  insolent  buffoonery,  and  breathe  the  ruffian  spirit,  of 
Jefferies.  Indeed,  he  almost  rivalled  that  laughing-hycena, 
when  he  called  Bunyan's  defence,  "  canting  in  pedlar's 
Latin ;"  and  concluded  his  sentence  of  imprisonment  by 
the  brutal  threat,  "  You  must  stretch  by  the  neck  for  it,  if 
you  do  not  submit ; — I  tell  you  plainly."  His  learning 
also  equalled  that  of  the  popish  Dignitary,  at  the  Reforma- 
tion, who  pronounced  the  Hebrew  to  be  a  newly  invented 
language :  Keeling,  with  equal  erudition,  affirmed  that  the 
Prayer  Book  had  been  "  since  the  time  of  the  Apostles." 
Still,  with  all  his  faults,  he  had  sense  enough  to  acknow- 
ledge, that  it  is  mere  "  habblingy*  for  men  who  have  no 
piety,  to  address  God  as  their  "  Father,"  by  the  Lord's 
Prayer. 

These  hints  concerning  the  Justices,  will  prepare  the 
reader  for  Bunyan's  own  account  of  his  trial.  "  After  I 
had  lain  in  prison  above  seven  weeks,"  he  says,  "  the 
Quarter  Sessions  were  to  be  kept  in  Bedford,  for  the 
county  thereof;  unto  which  I  was  to  be  brought;  and 
when  my  Jailor  had  set  me  before  these  justices,  there  was 
a  bill  of  indictment  preferred  against  me.  The  extent 
thereof  was  as  followeth ;  *'  That  John  Bunyan  of  the 
town  of  Bedford,  labourer,  being  a  person  of  such  and 
such  conditions,  he  hath  (since  such  a  time)  devilishly  and 
perniciously  abstained  from  coming  to  church  to  hear 
divine  service,  and  is  a  common  upholder  of  several 
unlawful  meetings  and  conventicles,  to  the  great  disturb- 
ance and  distraction  of  the  good  subjects  of  this  kingdom, 
contrary  to  the  laws  of  our  sovereign  lord  the  king,"  &c. 

"  The  Clerk.  When  this  was  read,  the  clerk  of  the 
sessions  said  unto  me  ;  What  say  you  to  this  ? 

"  Bun.  I  said,  that  as  to  the  first  part  of  it,  I  was  a 
common  frequenter  of  the  church  of  God.     And  was  also, 


288  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

by  grace,  a  member  with  the  people,  over  whom  Christ  is 
the  Head. 

"  Keeling.  But  saith  Justice  Keeling  (who  was  the 
judge  in  that  court),  Do  you  come  to  church,  (you  know 
what  I  mean)  to  the  parish  church,  to  hear  divine  service  ? 

"  Bun.  I  answered  No,  I  did  not. 

"  Keel.  He  asked  me  why  ? 

"  Bun.  I  said,  because  I  could  not  find  it  commanded 
in  the  word  of  God. 

"  Keel.  He  said  we  were  commanded  to  pray. 

"  Bun.  I  said,  but  not  by  the  common  prayer-book. 

"  Keel.  He  said  how  then  ? 

"  Bun.  I  said  with  the  Spirit.  As  the  apostle  saith,  *  I 
will  pray  with  the  Spirit,  and  with  the  understanding.' 
1  Cor,  xiv.  15. 

"  Keel.  He  said  we  might  pray  with  the  Spirit,  and  with 
the  understanding,  and  with  the  common  prayer-book  also. 

"  Bun.  I  said  that  the  prayers  in  the  common  prayer- 
book,  were  such  as  were  made  by  other  men,  and  not  by 
the  motion  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  within  our  hearts ;  and  as 
I  said,  the  apostle  saith,  he  will  pray  with  the  Spirit,  and 
with  the  understanding ;  not  with  the  Spirit  and  the  com- 
mon prayer-book. 

'*  Another  Justice.  What  do  you  count  prayer  ?     Do 
you  think  it  is  to  say  a  few  words  over  before,  or  among  a  : 
people  ? 

"  Bun.  I  said,  no,  noi  so  ;  for  men  might  have  many 
elegant,  or  excellent  words,  and  yet  not  pray  at  all :  but 
when  a  man  prayeth,  he  doth  through  a  sense  of  those 
things  which  he  wants  (which  sense  is  begotten  by  the 
Spirit)  pour  out  his  heart  before  God  through  Christ ;  ; 
though  his  words  be  not  so  many,  and  so  excellent  as  those 
of  others  are. 

*'  Justices.  They  said,  that  was  true. 

"  Bun.  I  said,  this  might  be  done  without  the  common 
prayer-book. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  289 

"  Another.  One  of  them  said  (I  think  it  was  Justice 
Blundale,  or  Justice  Snag-g"),  How  should  we  know,  that 
you  do  not  write  out  your  prayers  first,  and  then  read 
them  afterwards  to  the  people?  This  he  spake  in  a 
laug-hing  way. 

*'  Bun.  I  said,  it  is  not  our  use,  to  take  a  pen  and  paper 
and  write  a  few  words  thereon,  and  then  go  and  read  it 
over  to  a  company  of  people. 

"  But  how  should  we  know  it  ?  said  he. 

'*  Bun.  Sir,  it  is  none  of  our  custom,  said  I. 

"  Keel.  But  said  Justice  Keeling,  it  is  lawful  to  use  the 
common  prayer,  and  such  like  forms :  for  Christ  taught 
his  disciples  to  pray,  as  John  also  taught  his  disciples. 
And  further,  said  he.  Cannot  one  man  teach  another  to 
pray  ?  *  Faith  comes  by  hearing :'  and  one  man  may  con- 
vince another  of  sin,  and  therefore  prayers  made  by  men, 
and  read  over,  are  good  to  teach,  and  help  men  to  pray. 

*'  While  he  was  speaking  these  words,  God  brought  that 
word  into  my  mind,  in  the  eighth  of  the  Romans,  at  the 
26th  verse :  I  say  God  brought  it,  for  I  had  not  thought 
on  it  before :  but  as  he  was  speaking,  it  came  so  fresh  into 
my  mind,  and  was  set  as  evidently  before  me,  as  if  the 
Scripture  itself  had  said,  *  Take  me,  take  me ;' — so  when 
he  had  done  speaking, 

"  Bun.  I  said,  Sir,  the  Scripture  saith,  that  *  it  is  the 
Spirit  that  helpeth  our  infirmities  ;  for  we  know  not  what 
we  should  pray  for  as  we  ought :  but  the  Spirit  itself 
maketh  intercession  for  us,  with  groanings  which  cannot 
be  uttered.*  Mark,  said  I,  it  doth  not  say  the  common 
prayer-book  teacheth  us  how  to  pray,  but  the  Spirit.  And 
*  it  is  the  Spirit  that  helpeth  our  infirmities,'  saith  the 
apostle  ;  he  doth  not  say  it  is  the  common  prayer-book. 

"  And  as  to  the  Lord's-prayer,  although  it  be  an  easy 

thing  to  say,  '  Our  Father,'  &c.  with  the  mouth ;  yet  there 

are  very  few  that  can,  in  the  Spirit,  say  the  two  first  words 

in  that  prayer ;  that  is,  that  can  call  God  their  Father,  as 

p  p 


290  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

knowing  what  it  is  to  be  born  again,  and  as  having 
experience  that  they  are  begotten  of  the  Spirit  of  God ; 
which  if  they  do  not,  all  is  but  babbling-,  &c, 

"  Keel.  Justice  Keeling  said,  that  this  was  a  truth. 

"  Bun.  And  I  say  further,  as  to  your  saying  that  one 
man  may  convince  another  of  sin,  and  that  '  faith  comes  by 
hearing/  and  that  one  man  may  tell  another  how  he  should 
pray,  &c.  I  say  men  may  tell  each  other  of  their  sins,  but 
it  is  the  Spirit  that  must  convince  them. 

"  And  though  it  be  said  that  '  faith  comes  by  hearing  :* 
yet  it  is  the  Spirit  that  worketh  faith  in  the  heart  through 
hearing,  or  else,  they  are  not  profited  by  hearing. 

"  And  that  though  one  man  may  tell  another  how  he 
should  pray  :  yet  as  I  said  before,  he  cannot  pray,  nor 
make  his  condition  known  to  God,  except  the  Spirit  help. 
It  is  not  the  common  prayer-book  that  can  do  this.  It  is 
the  Spirit  that  sheweth  us  our  sins,  and  the  Spirit  that 
sheweth  us  a  Saviour  :  and  the  Spirit  that  stirreth  up  in 
our  hearts*  desires  to  come  to  God,  for  such  things  as  we 
stand  in  need  of,  even  sighing  out  our  souls  unto  him 
for  them  with  '  groans  which  cannot  be  uttered.'  With 
other  words  to  the  same  purpose.  At  this  they  were 
set. 

"  Keel.  But  says  Justice  Keeling,  what  have  you 
against  the  common  prayer-book  ? 

"  Bun.  I  said.  Sir,  if  you  will  hear  me,  I  shall  lay  down 
my  reasons  against  it. 

"  Keel.  He  said,  I  should  have  liberty ;  but  first,  said 
he,  let  me  give  you  one  caution  ;  take  heed  of  speaking 
irreverently  of  the  common  prayer-book ;  for  if  you  do  so, 
you  will  bring  great  damage  upon  yourself. 

"  Bun.  So  I  proceeded,  and  said,  my  first  reason  was ; 
because  it  was  not  commanded  in  the  word  of  God,  and 
therefore  I  could  not  use  it. 

*'  Another.  One  of  them  said,  where  do  you  find  it 
commanded  in  the  Scripture,  that  you  should  go  to  Elstow 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  291 

or  Bedford,  and  yet  it  is  lawful  to  go  to  either  of  them,  is 
it  not  ? 

"  Bun.  I  said  to  g-o  to  Elstow,  or  Bedford,  was  a  civil 
thing,  and  not  material,  though  not  commanded ;  and  yet 
God's  word  allowed  me  to  go  about  my  calling,  and  there- 
fore if  it  lay  there,  then  to  go  thither,  &c.  But  to  pray, 
was  a  great  part  of  the  divine  worship  of  God,  and  there- 
fore it  ought  to  be  done  according  to  the  rule  of  God's 
word. 

"  Another.  One  of  them  said,  he  will  do  harm ;  let 
him  speak  no  further. 

"  Just.  Keel.  Justice  Keeling  said.  No,  no,  never  fear 
him,  we  are  better  established  than  that ;  he  can  do  no 
harm :  we  know  the  Common  Prayer-Book  hath  been  ever 
since  the  apostles'  time,  and  it  is  lawful  for  it  to  be  used 
in  the  church. 

"  Bun.  I  said,  shew  me  the  place  in  the  epistles,  where 
the  common  prayer-book  is  written,  or  one  text  of  Scrip- 
ture, that  commands  me  to  read  it,  and  I  will  use  it.  But 
yet,  notwithstanding,  said  I,  they  that  have  a  mind  to  use 
it,  they  have  their  liberty,  that  is,  I  would  not  keep  them 
from  it ;  but  for  our  parts,  we  can  pray  to  God  without  it. 
Blessed  be  his  name  ! 

"  With  that  one  of  them  said.  Who  is  your  God, 
Beelzebub  ?  Moreover,  they  often  said  that  I  was  pos- 
sessed with  the  spirit  of  delusion,  and  of  the  devil.  All 
which  sayings,  I  passed  over ;  the  Lord  forgive  them ! 
And  further,  I  said,  blessed  be  the  Lord  for  it,  we  are 
encouraged  to  meet  together,  and  to  pray,  and  exhort  one 
another ;  for  we  have  had  the  comfortable  presence  of 
God  among  us  ;  for  ever  blessed  be  his  holy  name ! 

"  Keel.  Justice  Keeling  called  this  pedlar's  French, 
saying,  that  I  must  leave  off  my  canting.  The  Lord  open 
his  eyes ! 

"  Bun.  I  said,  that  we  ought  to  '  exhort  one  another 
daily  while  it  is  called  to  day.' 


292 


LIFE    OF   BUNYAN. 


"  Keel.  Justice  Keeling-  said,  that  I  ouglit  not  to  preach. 
And  asked  me  where  I  had  my  authority  ? — with  other 
such  like  words. 

"  Bun.  I  said,  that  I  would  prove  that  it  was  lawful 
for  me,  and  such  as  I  am,  to  preach  the  word  of 
God. 

"Keel.  He  said  unto  me,  by  what  scripture? 

*'  I  said,  by  that  in  the  first  epistle  of  Peter,  the  ivth 
chap,  the  11th  ver.  and  Acts  the  xviiith,  with  other  scrip- 
tures, which  he  would  not  suffer  me  to  mention.  But  said, 
hold  ;   not  so  mariy  ;  which  is  the  first  ? 

"  Bun.  I  said,  this.  *  As  every  man  hath  received  the 
gift,  even  so  let  him  minister  the  same  unto  another,  as 
good  stewards  of  the  manifold  grace  of  God  :  if  any  man 
speak,  let  him  speak  as  the  oracles  of  God,'  &c. 

"  Keel.  He  said,  let  me  a  little  open  that  scripture  to 
you  :  '  As  every  man  hath  received  the  gift ;'  that  is,  said 
he,  as  every  man  hath  received  a  trade  so  let  him  follow  it. 
If  any  man  have  received  a  gift  of  tinkering,  as  thou  hast 
done,  let  him  follow  his  tinkering-.  And  so  other  men, 
their  trades.      And  the  Divine  his  calling,  &c. 

"  Bun.  Nay,  Sir,  said  I,  but  it  is  most  clear,  that  the 
apostle  speaks  here  of  preaching  the  Word ;  if  you  do  but 
compare  both  the  verses  together,  the  next  verse  explains 
this  gift,  what  it  is  ;  saying,  '  If  any  man  speak,  let  him 
speak  as  the  oracles  of  God.'  So  that  it  is  plain,  that  the 
Holy  Ghost  doth  not  so  much  in  this  place  exhort  to  civil 
callings,  as  to  the  exercise  of  those  gifts  that  we  have 
received  from  God.  I  would  have  gone  on,  but  he  would 
not  give  me  leave. 

*'  Keel.  He  said  we  might  do  it  in  our  families,  but 
not  otherwise. 

"  Bun.  I  said,  if  it  were  lawful  to  do  good  to  some,  it 
was  lawful  to  do  good  to  more.  If  it  were  a  good  duty  to 
exhort  our  families,  it  was  good  to  exhort  others  :  but  if 
they  held  it  a  sin  to  meet  together  to  seek  the  face  of  God, 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  293 

and  exhort  one  another  to  follow  Christ,  I  should  sin  still : 
for  so  we  should  do. 

"  Keel.  He  said  he  was  not  so  well  versed  in  scripture 
as  to  dispute,  or  words  to  that  purpose.  And  said  more- 
over, that  they  could  not  wait  upon  me  any  longer ;  but 
said  to  me,  then  you  confess  the  indictment,  do  you  not  ? 
Now,  and  not  till  now,  I  saw  I  was  indicted ! 

"  Bun.  I  said,  this  I  confess, — we  have  had  many  meet- 
ings together,  both  to  pray  to  God,  and  to  exhort  one 
another,  and  that  we  had  the  sweet  comforting  presence  of 
the  Lord  among  us  for  our  encouragement,  blessed  be  his 
name  ;  therefore,  I  confess  myself  guilty,  and  no  otherwise. 

"  Keel.  Then  said  he,  hear  your  judgment.  '  You 
must  be  had  back  again  to  prison,  and  there  lie  for  three 
months  following ;  and  at  three  months'  end,  if  you  do  not 
submit  to  go  to  church  to  hear  divine  service,  and  leave 
your  preaching,  you  must  be  banished  the  realm  :  and  if, 
after  such  a  day  as  shall  be  appointed  you  to  be  gone,  you 
shall  be  found  in  this  realm,  &c.  or  be  found  to  come  over 
again  without  special  license  from  the  king,  Sec.  you  must 
stretch  by  the  neck  for  it,  I  tell  you  plainly ;'  and  so  he 
bid  my  jailor  have  me  away. 

'*  Bun.  I  told  him,  as  to  this  matter,  I  was  at  a  point 
with  him :  for  if  I  were  out  of  prison  to-day,  I  would 
preach  the  gospel  again  to-morrow,  by  the  help  of  God. 

"  Another.  To  which  one  made  me  some  answer :  but 
my  jailor  pulling  me  away  to  be  gone,  I  could  not  tell 
what  he  said. 

"  Thus  I  departed  from  them  ;  and  1  can  truly  say,  I 
bless  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  for  it,  that  my  heart  was 
sweetly  refreshed  in  the  time  of  my  examination,  and  also 
afterwards,  at  my  returning  to  the  prison :  so  that  I  found 
Christ's  words  more  than  bare  trifles,  where  he  saith,  '  He 
will  give  you  a  mouth  and  wisdom,  which  all  your  adver- 
saries shall  not  be  able  to  gainsay,  nor  resist.'  This  peace 
no  man  can  take  from  us. 


294  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

'•'  Thus  have  I  given  you  the  substance  of  ray  Examina- 
tion. The  Lord  make  this  profitable  to  all  that  shall  read 
or  hear  it.    Farewell." 

This  Trial  is  wonderfully  like  some  earlier  Trials,  which 
are  now  universally  condemned  by  Protestants.  Thus  the 
Lollards  and  Wycliffites  were  treated  by  the  Church  and 
State  of  their  times :  but  what  Protestant  would  call  them 
unreasonable  ;  or  say  of  them,  that  having  persuaded  them- 
selves "  by  weak  arguments,  they  used  them  as  strong 
ones  j"  or  distinguish  between  them  and  Martyrs  *'  who 
had  no  other  alternative  than  idolatry  or  the  stake  ?"  Not 
Dr.  Southey,  certainly.  And  yet,  thus  he  distinguishes 
between  Bunyan,  and  the  Martyrs  whose  example  Bunyan 
was  prepared  to  follow.  Why  ?  Because,  he  says,  Bunyan 
was  "  neither  called  upon  to  renounce  any  thing  that  he  did 
believe,  nor  to  profess  any  thing  he  did  not." — Life,  p.  70. 
Now  it  is  true  that,  "  except  in  the  point  of  infant  baptism, 
he  did  not  differ  a  hair's  breadth  from  the  doctrines"  of 
the  Church  of  England.  So  far  there  is  no  parallel 
between  Bunyan  and  the  first  Protestant  martyrs.  But 
although  the  points  for  which  he  contended  were  not  the 
same,  the  penalty  for  preaching  them  "  up  and  down  the 
country "  was  imprisonment,  banishment,  or  death :  and, 
therefore,  the  less  he  differed  from  the  Church  in  doctrine, 
the  more  culpable  was  the  Church  in  calling  for  the  sword 
of  the  Magistrate.  Never  were  her  Altars  or  her  Liturg; 
so  profaned,  as  when  attendance  on  them  was  enforced  b^ 
fines,  chains,  and  dungeons.  This  was  a  desecration  o: 
them,  viler  than  any  which  the  most  fanatical  of  the 
Roundheads  perpetrated.  The  Prayer-Book  was  shame- 
fully insulted  when  it  was  tossed  by  their  spears,  and  torn 
by  their  mailed  hands :  but  it  was  disgraced,  when  its  ovvn 
votaries  enforced  it  by  batons,  brands,  and  the  sword. 
When  thus  bristled  with  weapons  so  unlike  itself,  and  so 
alien  to  its  holy  design,  Bunyan  was  more  than  justified  in 
rejecting  the  use  of  it,  and  in  refusing  to  worship  where  it 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  295 

Avas  used :  for,  what  was  it  but  an  idoly  when,  like  the 
golden  image  on  the  plain  of  Dura,  the  fiery  furnace  sus- 
tained its  claims?  The  King  and  the  Church  went  as  far 
bejond  their  prerogative  when  they  commanded  all  men 
to  worship  by  it,  as  Nebuchadnezzar  when  he  commanded 
all  men  to  worship  his  golden  image.  Besides,  the  Sword 
in  Religion  is  as  much  an  idol  as  Moloch  or  Baal.  No 
idolatry  which  the  first  Protestants  "  resisted  even  unto 
blood,"  was  more  opposed  to  either  the  letter  or  the  spirit 
of  Christianity,  than  the  sword  of  persecution.  Bunyan 
was,  therefore,  ready  to  go  to  the  stake  for  the  same  prin- 
ciple that  the  Lollards  and  Wycliffites  iceiit  to  it.  He 
knew  the  spirit  of  Christianity,  although  the  Church 
mistook  it,  and  although  the  author  of  "  The  Book  of  the 
Church  "  says,  that  "  John  Bunyan  did  not  ask  himself  how 
far  the  case  of  those  Martyrs  resembled  the  situation  in 
which  he  was  placed."  He  saw,  if  Dr.  South ey  do  not, 
that  resistance  unto  blood,  against  a  system  which  "  reigned 
unto  death,"  was  "  a  plain  duty  wherewith  there  may  be 
no  compromise." — Life.  This  Jiing  at  Bunyan's  martyr- 
spirit,  as  influenced  by  weak  arguments,  is  very  like  Dr. 
Lingard's  explanation  of  that  faithful  martyr  Sawtre, 
whom  Arundel  burnt  at  Smithfield  in  1401  ; — "  The 
enthusiast  aspired  to  the  crown  of  martyrdom,  and  had  the 
satisfaction  to  fall  a  victim  to  his  own  folly." 

In  thus  animadverting  upon  the  Church  of  the  Restora- 
tion, I  do  not  forget  that  the  Church  of  the  Common- 
wealth persecuted  also.  Laws  or  swords  forbidding  the 
Prayer-Book,  were  as  unchristian  as  those  which  enforced 
it.  Dissenters,  however,  do  not  palliate  the  errors  of  the 
Puritans,  nor  sneer  at  the  victims  of  their  intolerance. 
No  Nonconformist  pen  would  underrate  the  imprisonment, 
or  the  privations,  of  Bishops  Hall  and  Taylor.  They  too 
were  high-minded  and  hot-minded  men ;  engaged  in  "  a 
course  of  dangerous  activity,"  at  one  time  :  but  who 
would  flippantly  say  of  them,  that  they  "  had  leisure  in 


296  I  IFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

confinement,  to  cool  and  ripen  ?"  No  good  cause  can  be 
promoted  or  upheld,  by  disparaging  the  spirit,  motives,  or 
reasons  of  such  men  as  Taylor,  Hall,  and  Bunyan,  when 
they  became  sufferers  for  conscience'  sake.  Even  historical 
truth  is  trifled  with,  when  it  is  said  of  Bunyan,  that  "  he 
was  only  required  not  to  go  about  the  country  holding 
conventicles."  Well  might  Conder  call  this,  "  extreme 
disingenuousness,"  seeing  "  the  statute  under  which  Bun- 
yan was  indicted,  rendered  his  nonconformity  itself  a 
crime ;  for  his  abstaining  from  coming  to  Church  was 
placed  at  the  front  of  his  offence  :  and  he  was  not  only 
required  to  profess  what,  in  him,  would  have  been 
hypocrisy,  but  to  renounce  what  he  believed  to  be  his 
sacred  duty." — L'ife,  p.  25. 

His  own  explanations  in  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  will 
best  close  this  Chapter  :  Faithful  is  made  to  say,  "  In 
answer  to  what  Mr.  Envy  hath  spoken,  I  never  said  ought 
but  this ; — that  what  rule,  or  laws,  or  custom,  or  people, 
were  flat  against  the  Word  of  God,  are  diametrically 
opposite  to  Christianity.  As  to  Mr.  Superstition,  and  his 
charge  against  me,  I  said  only  this, — that  in  the  worship 
of  God  a  divine  faith  is  required,  and  there  can  be  no 
divine  faith  without  a  divine  Revelation  of  the  will  of 
God.  Therefore,  whatever  is  thrust  into  His  worship, 
not  agreeable  to  divine  Revelation,  cannot  be  done  but  by 
a  human  faith ;  which  faith  will  not  be  profitable  to 
Eternal  Life." 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  297 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

bunyan's  defence. 
1661. 

Bunyan's  defence  did  not  end  with  his  trial.  He  hud  to 
argue  the  question  over  again  with  the  Clerk  of  the  Peace 
and  the  Jailor.  "  The  Justices,"  as  he  calls  them,  seem, 
like  Pilate,  to  have  "feared  the  people;"  and  therefore 
sent  Cobb,  the  Clerk,  to  negociate  with  him  privately. 
And  they  chose  well :  for  Cobb  was  a  good  diplomatist, 
and  Bunyan  regarded  him  as  a  friend.  This  circumstance 
brought  out  a  full  view  of  Bunyan's  spirit.  He  spoke 
without  reserve  or  suspicion  ;  and  thus,  although  he  fur- 
nished his  Tempter  with  weapons  which  were  afterwards 
wielded  against  himself,  he  also  threw  open  his  heart  to 
posterity,  and  shewed  at  once  his  metal  and  motives. 
Neither  Cobb's  reasonings,  nor  the  Jailor's  kind  remon- 
strances, moved  him  at  all,  except  to  acknowledge  their 
"  meekness;"  a  compliment  which  \)aq  cobwebs  ill  deserved: 
for  they  were  spun  to  ensnare  him,  as  the  Spider  shewed 
eventually. 

This  does  not  appear  from  the  process  of  the  negocia- 
tion.  Throughout  that,  Cobb  seems  a  kind,  although  not 
a  wise,  friend  ;  and  Bunyan  somewhat  obstinate,  as  well 
as  firm  :  for  he  refused  to  accept  the  liberty  of  exhorting 
his  neighbours  privately.  He  would  be  nothing  but  a 
Preacher,  or  a  Prisoner;  a  Minister,  or  a  Martyr!  This 
was  not  obstinacy  in  him.  He  had  felt  it  to  be  his  duty  to 
preach  salvation  to  others,  even  when  he  had  little  or  no 
Q  Q 


298  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

hope  of  salv.ition  for  himself.  Neither  the  fear  nor  the 
fire  of  the  wrath  of  Goci,  even  when  at  their  height  in  his 
own  mind,  could  stop  him  from  warning  men  to  flee  from 
that  wrath.  It  was  not  likely,  therefore,  that  the  wrath  of 
man  would  weigh  with  him. 

Besides,  he  had  learned,  by  some  means,  that  Wycliffe 
had  said,  "  Whoever  leaveth  off  preaching  the  Word  of 
God  for  fear  of  excommunication  from  men,  is  excommu- 
nicated by  God  already,  and  shall  be  counted  a  Traitor  to 
Christ  in  the  day  of  judgment."  This  was  enough  for 
Runyan  ;  for  Wycliffe  had  said  it !  No  matter  that  he 
could  not  read  the  "  Impedimenta  Evangelizantium,''  nor 
that  he  had  no  access  to  the  English  MS.  at  Cambridge, 
entitled,  "  How  Antichrist  and  his  Clerkis  feran  trevve 
])restis  fro  prechyinge  of  Christis  gospel," — he  knew  the 
Author's  opinion,  and  identified  himself  with  it,  although 
he  had  no  Duke  of  Lancaster,  nor  any  Lord  Percy,  to  awe 
his  enemies. 

It  is  a  curious  coincidence,  that  the  Monkish  historians 
implicate  Wycliffe  in  the  insurrection  of  Watt  Tyler, 
just  in  the  same  way,  that  Dr.  Southey  connects  Vennei-'s 
ir]surrection  with  Puritanism  and  Bunyan's  arrest ! 

These  hints  will  enable  the  reader  to  appreciate  Bunyan's 
narrative  of  what  he  calls,  "  The  Substance  of  some  Dis- 
course had  between  the  Clerk  of  the  Peace  and  myself^ 
when  he  came  to  admonish  me,  according  to  the  tenor  ofi 
that  Law  by  which  I  was  in  Prison. 

"  When  I  had  lain  in  prison  other  twelve  weeks,  not 
knowing  what  they  intended  to  do  with  me,  the  third  of 
April,  1661,  comes  Mr.  Cobb  unto  me,  (as  he  told  me) 
being  sent  by  the  justices  to  admonish  me,  and  demand  of 
me  submittance  to  the  Church  of  England,  &c.  The 
extent  of  our  discourse  was  as  followeth. 

"  Cobb,  Wlien  he  was  come  into  the  house  he  sent  for 
me  out  of  my  chamber  :  and  when  I  was  come  unto  him. 
he  said,  Neighbour  Bunyan,  how  do  you  do  ? 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  299 

"  Bun.  I  thank  you,  Sir,  said  I,  very  well,  blessed  be 
the  Lord. 

"  Cobb.  Saith  he,  I  come  to  tell  you,  that  it  is  desired, 
you  would  submit  yourself  to  the  laws  of  the  land,  or  else 
at  the  next  sessions  it  will  go  worse  with  you,  even  to  be 
sent  away  out  of  the  nation,  or  else  worse  than  that. 

"  Bun.  I  said,  that  I  did  desire  to  demean  myself  in  the 
world,  both  as  becometh  a  man  and  a  Christian. 

"  Cobb.  But  saith  he,  you  must  submit  to  the  laws  of 
the  land,  and  leave  off  those  meetings  which  you  was  wont 
to  have :  for  the  statute  law  is  directly  against  it ;  and  I 
am  sent  to  you  by  the  justices  to  tell  you,  that  they  do 
intend  to  prosecute  the  law  against  you,  if  you  submit  not. 

"  Bun.  I  said.  Sir,  I  conceive  that  the  law  by  which  I 
am  in  prison  at  this  time,  doth  not  reach  or  condemn, 
either  me,  or  the  meetings  which  I  do  frequent ;  that  law 
was  made  against  those,  that  being  designed  to  do  evil  in 
their  meetings,  make  the  exercise  of  religion  their  pretence 
to  cover  their  wickedness.  It  doth  not  forbid  the  private 
meetings  of  those  that  plainly  and  simply  make  it  their 
only  end  to  worship  the  Lord,  and  to  exhort  one  another 
to  edification.  My  end  in  meeting  with  others  is  simply 
to  do  as  much  good  as  I  can,  by  exhortation  and  counsel, 
according  to  that  small  measure  of  light  which  God  hath 
given  me,  and  not  to  disturb  the  peace  of  the  nation. 

*'  Cobb.  Every  one  will  say  the  same,  said  he  ;  you  see 
the  late  insurrection  at  London,  under  what  glorious  pre- 
tences they  went,  and  yet  indeed  they  intended  no  less 
than  the  ruin  of  the  kingdom  and  commonwealth." 

("  Mr.  Cobb,"  says  Ivimey,  "  referred  to  the  fifth 
monarchy  men,  a  small  number  of  enthusiasts.  Their  leader 
was  Thomas  Venner,  a  wine-cooper,  who  in  his  little  con- 
venticle, in  Coleman-street,  warmed  his  admirers  with 
passionate  expectations  of  a  fifth  universal  monarchy, 
under  the  personal  reign  of  King  Jesus  upon  earth,  and 
that  the  saints  were  to  take  the  kingdom  tl*€frtserVfe&»     Ta 


300  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

introduce  this  imaginary  king-dom,  they  marched  out  of 
their  meeting-house  towards  St.  Paul's  Churchyard,  on 
Sunday,  January  6,  1C61,  to  the  number  of  about  fifty 
men  well  armed,  and  with  a  resolution  to  subvert  the 
present  government,  or  die  in  the  attempt.  They  pub- 
lished a  declaration  of  the  design  of  their  rising,  and  placed 
sentinels  at  proper  places.  The  Lord  Mayor  sent  the 
Trained  Bands  to  disperse  them,  whom  they  quickly 
routed,  but  in  the  evening  retired  to  Cane  Wood,  between 
Highgate  and  Hampstead.  On  Wednesday  morning  they 
returned,  and  dispersed  a  party  of  the  King's  soldiers  in 
Threadneedle-street.  In  Wood-street  they  repelled  the 
Trained  Bands,  and  some  of  the  Horse-guards  ;  but  Venner 
liimself  was  knocked  down,  and  some  of  his  company  slain; 
from  hence  the  remainder  retreated  to  Cripplegate,  and 
took  possession  of  an  house,  which  they  threatened  to 
defend  with  a  desperate  resolution,  but  nobody  appearing 
to  countenance  their  frenzy,  they  surrendered  after  they 
had  lost  about  half  their  number :  Venner  and  one  of  his 
officers,  were  hanged  before  their  meeting-house  door  in 
Coleman-street,  January  19;  and  a  few  days  after,  nine 
more  were  executed  in  divers  parts  of  the  city.") 

"  Bun.  That  practice  of  theirs  I  abhor,  said  I;  yet  it 
doth  not  follow,  that  because  they  did  so,  therefore  all 
others  will  do  so.  I  look  upon  it  as  my  duty  to  behave 
myself  under  the  king's  government,  both  as  becomes  a 
man  and  a  Christian,  and  if  an  occasion  were  offered  me,  I 
should  willingly  manifest  my  loyalty  to  my  Prince,  both  by 
word  and  deed. 

*'  Cobb.  Well,  said  he,  I  do  not  profess  myself  to  be  a 
man  that  can  dispute  ;  but  this  I  say  truly,  neighbour 
Bunyan,  I  would  have  you  consider  this  matter  seriously, 
and  submit  yourself;  you  may  have  your  liberty  to  exhort 
your  neighbour  in  private  discourse,  so  be  you  do  not  call 
together  an  assembly  of  people ;  and  truly  you  may  do 
much  good  to  the  church  of  Christ,  if  you  would  go  this 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  301 

way ;  and  this  you  may  do,  and  the  law  not  abridge  you 
of  it.     It  is  your  private  meetings  that  the  law  is  against. 

"  Bun.  Sir,  said  I,  if  I  may  do  good  to  one  by  my 
discourse,  why  may  I  not  do  good  to  two?  And  if  to 
two,  why  not  to  four,  and  so  to  eight  ? 

"  Cobb.  Aye,  saith  he,  and  to  a  hundred,  I  warrant 
you. 

"  Bun.  Yes,  Sir,  said  I,  I  think  I  should  not  be  forbid 
to  do  as  much  good  as  I  can. 

"  Cobb.  But,  saith  he,  you  may  but  pretend  to  do  good, 
and  instead,  notwithstanding,  do  harm,  by  seducing  the 
people ;  you  are  therefore  denied  your  meeting  so  many 
together,  lest  you  should  do  harm. 

"  Bun.  And  yet,  said  I,  you  say  the  law  tolerates  me  to 
discourse  with  my  neighbour ;  surely  there  is  no  law  tole- 
rates me  to  seduce  any  one  ;  therefore  if  I  may  by  the  law- 
discourse  with  one,  surely  it  is  to  do  him  good  \  and  if 
I  by  discoursing  may  do  good  to  one,  surely  by  the  same 
law,  I  may  do  good  to  many. 

*'  Cobb.  The  law,  saith  he,  doth  expressly  forbid  your 
private  meetings,  therefore  they  are  not  to  be  tolerated. 

"  Bun.  I  told  him,  that  I  would  not  entertain  so  much 
uncharitableness  of  that  parliament  in  the  35th  of  Eliza- 
beth, or  of  the  Queen  herself,  as  to  think  they  did  by  that 
law  intend  the  oppressing  of  any  of  God's  ordinances,  or 
the  interrupting  any  in  the  way  of  God  ;  but  men  may,  in 
the  wresting  of  it,  turn  it  against  the  way  of  God  ;  but 
take  the  law  in  itself,  and  it  only  fighteth  against  those 
that  drive  at  mischief  in  their  hearts  and  meeting,  making 
religion  only  their  cloak,  colour  or  pretence ;  for  so  are 
the  words  of  the  statute. 

"  Cobb.  Very  good ;  therefore  the  king  seeing  that 
pretences  are  usually  in  and  among  people,  so  as  to  make 
religion  their  pretence  only ;  therefore  he,  and  the  law 
before  him,  doth  forbid  such  private  meetings,  and  tolerates 
only  public ;  you  may  meet  in  public. 


302  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

"  Bun.  Sir,  said  I,  let  me  answer  you  in  a  similitude  ; 
set  the  case  that,  at  such  a  Wood  corner,  there  did  usually 
come  forth  thieves  to  do  mischief,  must  there  therefore 
a  law  be  made,  that  every  one  that  cometh  out  there  shall 
be  killed  ?  May  not  there  come  out  from  thence  true  men 
as  well  as  thieves  ?  Just  thus  is  it  in  this  case  ;  I  do  think 
there  may  be  many,  that  may  design  the  destruction  of  the 
commonwealth.  But  it  doth  not  follow  therefore  that  all 
private  meetings  are  unlawful.  Those  that  transgress,  let 
them  be  punished.  And  if  at  any  time  I  myself,  should  do 
any  act  in  my  conversation  as  doth  not  become  a  man  and 
Christian,  let  me  bear  the  punishment.  And  as  for  your 
saying  I  may  meet  in  public,  if  I  may  be  suffered,  I  would 
gladly  do  it.  Let  me  have  but  meeting  enough  in  public, 
and  I  shall  care  the  less  to  have  them  in  private.  I  do  not 
meet  in  private,  because  I  am  afraid  to  have  meetings  in 
public.  I  bless  the  Lord  that  my  heart  is  at  that  point, 
that  if  any  man  can  lay  any  thing  to  my  charge,  either 
in  doctrine  or  in  practice,  in  this  particular,  that  can  be 
proved  error  or  heresy,  I  am  willing  to  disown  it,  even  in 
the  very  market-place.  But  if  it  be  truth,  then,  to  stand 
to  it  to  the  last  drop  of  my  blood.  And  Sir,  said  I,  you 
ought  to  commend  me  for  so  doing.  To  err,  and  to  be  a 
heretic,  are  two  things;  I  am  no  heretic,  because  I  will 
not  stand  refractorily  to  defend  any  one  thing  that  is  con- 
trary to  the  word  ;  prove  any  thing  which  I  hold,  to  be 
an  error,  and  I  will  recant  it. 

"  Cobb.  But  goodman  Bunyan,  said  he,  methinks,  you 
need  not  stand  so  strictly  upon  this  one  thing,  as  to  have 
meetings  of  such  public  assemblies.  Cannot  you  submit, 
and,  notwithstanding,  do  as  much  good  as  you  can,  in  a 
neighbourly  way,  without  having  such  meetings? 

*'  Bun.  Truly,  Sir,  said  I,  I  do  not  desire  to  commend 
myself,  but  to  think  meanly  of  myself :  yet  when  I  do  most 
despise  myself,  I  cannot  help  taking  notice  of  that  small 
measure  of  liyht  which  God  hath  given  me,  also  that  the 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  303 

people  of  the  Lord  (by  their  own  saying)  are  edified 
thereby.  Besides,  when  I  see  that  the  Lord,  through 
grace,  hath  in  some  measure  blessed  my  labour,  I  dare  not 
but  exercise  that  gift  which  God  hath  given  me,  for  the 
good  of  the  people.  And  I  said  further,  that  I  would 
willingly  speak  in  public  if  I  might. 

"  Cobb.  He  said,  that  I  might  come  to  the  public 
assemblies  and  hear.  What  though  you  do  not  preach  ? 
you  may  hear.  Do  not  think  yourself  so  well  enlightened, 
and  that  you  have  received  a  gift  so  far  above  others, 
but  that  you  may  hear  other  men  })reach.  Or  to  that 
purpose. 

"  Bun.  I  told  him,  I  w^as  as  willing  to  be  taught  as  to 
give  instruction,  and  I  looked  upon  it  as  my  duty  to  do 
both  ;  for,  said  I,  a  man  that  is  a  teacher,  he  himself  may 
learn  also  from  another  that  teacheth ;  as  the  Apostle 
saith  :  *  We  may  all  prophesy  one  by  one,  that  all  may 
learn.'  That  is,  every  man  that  hath  received  a  gift  from 
God  he  may  dispense  it,  that  others  may  be  comforted  ; 
and  when  he  hath  done,  he  may  hear,  and  learn,  and  be 
comforted  himself  of  others. 

"  Cobb.  But,  said  he,  what  if  you  should  forbear  awhile; 
and  sit  still,  till  you  see  further  how  things  will  go  ? 

"  Bun.  Sir,  said  I,  W^ycliffe  saith,  that  he  which  leaveth 
off  preaching  and  hearing  of  the  word  of  God  for  fear  of 
excommunication  of  men,  he  is  already  excommunicated 
of  God,  and  shall  in  the  day  of  Judgment  be  counted  a 
traitor  to  Christ. 

"  Cobb.  Aye,  saith  he,  they  that  do  not  hear  shall  be  so 
counted  indeed ;  do  you  therefore  hear. 

"  Bun.  But  Sir,  said  I,  he  saith,  he  that  shall  leave  off 
either  preaching  or  hearing,  &c.  That  is,  if  he  hath 
received  ^  gift  for  edification,  it  is  his  sin,  if  he  doth  not 
lay  it  out  in  a  way  of  exhortation  and  counsel,  according 
to  the  proportion  of  his  gift ;  as  well  as  to  spend  his  time 
altogether  in  hearing  others  preach. 


304  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

"  Cobb.  But,  said  he,  how  shall  we  know  that  you  have 
received  a  gift  ? 

"  Bun.  Said  I,  let  any  man  hear  and  search,  and  prove 
the  doctrine  by  the  Bible. 

"  Cobb.  But  will  you  be  willing,  said  he,  that  two 
indifferent  persons  shall  determine  the  case,  and  will  you 
stand  by  their  judgment  ? 

"  Bun.  I  said,  are  they  infallible  f 

"  He  said,  no. 

"  Bun.  Then,  said  I,  it  is  possible  my  judgment  may  be 
as  good  as  theirs.  But  yet  I  will  pass  by  either,  and  in 
this  matter  be  judged  by  the  Scriptures ;  I  am  sure  that  is 
infallible,  and  cannot  err. 

"  Cobb.  But,  said  he,  who  shall  be  judge  between 
you ;  for  you  take  the  Scriptures  one  way,  and  they 
another. 

"  Bun.  I  said,  the  Scripture  should,  and  that  by  com- 
paring one  scripture  with  another ;  for  that  will  open 
itself  if  it  be  rightly  compared.  As  for  instance,  if  under 
the  different  apprehensions  of  the  word  mediator  ('  He 
seems  shrewdly  to  remind  Mr.  Cobb,'  says  Ivimey,  '  that 
as  he  had  undertaken  the  office  of  a  Mediator,  between 
him  and  the  justices,  he  should  he  faithful  to  both  parties'), 
you  would  know  the  truth  of  it,  the  Scriptures  open  it ; 
and  tell  us,  that  he  that  is  a  mediator,  must  take  up  the 
business  between  two,  and  '  a  mediator  is  not  a  mediator 
of  one, — but  God  is  one,  and  there  is  one  mediator  between 
God  and  man,  even  the  man  Christ  Jesus.'  So  likewise 
the  Scripture  calleth  Christ  a  complete,  or  perfect,  or  able 
high  priest.  That  is  opened  in  that  he  is  called  man  and 
also  God.  His  blood  also  is  discovered  to  be  effectually 
efficacious  by  the  same  things.  So  the  Scripture,  as  touch- 
ing the  matter  of  meeting  together,  &c.  doth  likewise  suffi- 
ciently open  itself  and  discover  its  meaning. 

"  Cobb.  But  are  you  willing,  said  he,  to  stand  to  the 
judgment  of  the  church  ? 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  305 

"  Bun.   Yes  Sir,  said  I,  to  the  approbation  of  the  church 
of  God,  (the  church's  judgment  is  best  expressed  in  Scrip- 
ture.)    We  had  much  other  discourse,  which  I  cannot  well 
remember,  about  the  laws  of  the  nation,  and  submission  to 
governors  ;  after  which  I  told  him,  that  I  did  look  upon 
myself  as  bound  in   conscience  to  walk  according  to  all 
righteous   laws,  and  that,  whether  there  were  a  king  or 
not ;  and  if  I  did  any  thing  that  was  contrary,  I  did  hold  it 
my  duty  to  bear  patiently  the  penalty  of  the  law,  that  was 
provided  against  such  offenders  ;  with  many  more  words  to 
the  like  effect.     And  I  said  moreover,  that  to  cut  off  all 
occasions  of  suspicion  from  any,  as  touching  the  harmless- 
ness  of  my  doctrine  in  private,  I  would  willingly  take  the 
pains  to  give  any  one  the  oiotes  of  all  my  sermons.     For 
I  do  sincerely  desire  to  live  quietly  in  my  country,  and  to 
submit  to  the  present  authority. 

"  Cobb.  Well,  neighbour  Bunyan,  said  he,  but  indeed  I 
would  wish  you  seriously  to  consider  of  these  things,  be- 
tween this  and  the  quarter-sessions,  and  to  submit  yourself. 
You  may  do  much  good  if  you  continue  still  in  the  land. 
But  alas,  what  benefit  will  it  be  to  your  friends,  or  what 
good  can  you  do  to  them,  if  you  should  be  sent  away 
beyond  the  seas  into  Spain  or  Constantinople,  or  some 
other  remote  part  of  the  world  ?  Pray  be  ruled  ! 
"  Jail.  Indeed,  Sir,  /  hojje  he  will  he  ruled  I 
"  Bun.  I  shall  desire,  said  I,  in  all  godliness  and  honesty 
to  behave  myself  in  the  nation  whilst  I  am  in  it.  And  if  I 
must  be  so  dealt  withal,  as  you  say,  I  hope  God  will  help 
me  to  bear  what  they  shall  lay  upon  me.  I  know  no  evil 
that  I  have  done  in  this  matter,  to  be  so  used.  I  speak  as 
in  \}ii%  presence  of  God. 

"  Cobb.  You  know,  saith  he,  that  the  Scripture  saith, 
*  the  powers  that  be,  are  ordained  of  God.' 

"  Bun.  I  said  yes,  and  that  I  was  to  submit  to  the  king 
as  supreme,  and  also  to  the  governors,  as  to  them  who  are 
sent  by  him. 

R   R 


306  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

"  Cobb.  Well  then,  said  he,  the  king-  then  commands 
you,  that  you  should  not  have  any  private  meetings ; 
because  it  is  against  his  law,  and  he  is  ordained  of  God, 
therefore  you  should  not  have  any. 

"  Bun.  I  told  him,  that  Paul  did  own  the  powers  that 
were  in  his  day,  to  be  of  God ;  and  yet  he  was  often  in 
prison  under  them  for  all  that.  And  also,  though  Jesus 
Christ  told  Pilate,  that  he  had  no  power  against  him,  but 
of  God,  yet  he  died  under  the  same  Pilate  ;  and  yet,  said 
I,  I  hope  you  will  not  say,  that  either  Paul  or  Christ,  were 
such  as  did  deny  magistracy,  and  so  sinned  against  God  in 
slighting  the  ordinance.  Sir,  said  I,  the  law  hath  provided 
two  ways  of  obeying : — The  one  to  do  that  which  I  in 
my  conscience  do  believe  that  I  am  bound  to  do,  actively  ; 
and  where  I  cannot  obey  actively,  there  I  am  willing  to 
lie  down,  and  to  suffer  what  they  shall  do  unto  me.  At 
this  he  sat  still  and  said  no  more  ;  which  when  he  had 
done,  I  did  thank  him  for  his  civil  and  meek  discoursing 
with  me  ;  and  so  we  parted. 

"  O  that  we  might  meet  in  Heaven!"  Bunyan  exclaimed, 
as  this  negociation  closed.  They  met  first,  however,  in 
the  Court,  at  the  Bedford  Assizes  in  1662,  and  then  Cobb 
meanly  and  malignantly  deprived  him  of  the  opportunity 
of  appearing  before  the  Judge  ;  blotted  his  name  from  the 
Calendar ;  threatened  his  Jailer,  and  suborned  the  Court 
against  him.  Well  might  Bunyan  say,  "  Mister  Cobb  did 
discover  himself  to  be  one  of  7ny  greatest  opposers." 

It  was  well  for  Bunyan  that  he  knew  WyclifFe's  opinion. 
It  had  as  much  influence  upon  his  manly  resistance  of 
unjust  human  Laws,  as  Luther's  opinions  had  upon  his 
evangelical  treatment  of  the  divine  Law.  It  is  thus  that 
the  watchwords  of  the  Master-Spirits  of  one  age,  find  out 
and  unfold  the  incipient  master-spirits  of  future  ages, 
whenever  a  crisis  comes.  Wycliffe  and  Luther,  Bunyan 
and  Baxter,  Whitefield  and  Wesley,  have  not  done  half 
their  work  yet  upon  the  world.     Their  "  winged  words," 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  307 

are  but  rising"  to  the  eagle-elevation,  from  which  they  will 
shoot  down  with  eagle-power  upon  all  ecclesiastical  error, 
apathy,  and  inefficiency.  Our  old  Reformers  will  reform 
us  eventually,  if  their  Books  be  allowed  to  live !  And,  live 
they  will,  whatever  die!  No  man,  in  his  senses,  can 
imagine  for  a  moment,  that  the  mongrel  theology  of  the 
Oxford  Tract  School,  or  the  meagre  theology  of  the 
Christian  Knowledge  Society,  can  ever  supersede  Barrow, 
or  suppress  Butler,  or  eclipse  Newton,  or  neutralize 
Simeon.  The  world  cannot  be  thrown  hack  thus,  by 
monks,  hermits,  or  hierophants.  The  four  winds  of 
heaven  are  too  full  of  the  winged  seeds  of  both  the  first 
and  the  second  Reformation  (Protestantism  and  Metho- 
dism), to  allow  the  arable  land  of  the  nation  to  be  sown 
again  with  the  Tares  of  popery,  priestcraft,  or  formalism. 
What  is  the  weight  of  a  Pusey,  Hook,  or  Exeter,  when 
thrown  into  the  scale  against  Taylor  and  Tillotson ; 
Baxter  and  Butler ;  Bishop  Hall  and  John  Bunyan  ? 
"  Less  than  nothing  and  vanity  !"  Contrasts,  which  shock 
the  understanding,  and  sharpen  the  wits,  of  thinking 
men! 


308  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

bunyan's  second  wife. 
1661. 

The  woman  whom  Sir  Matthew  Hale  evidently  respected, 
as  well  as  pitied  and  advised,  when  she  pleaded  in  open 
Court  her  husband's  cause,  deserves  to  share  her  husband's 
immortality.  She  would  have  deserved  this,  had  there 
been  no  Hale  to  appreciate  her.  Well  mig-ht  Mr.  St. 
John  say  of  her,  "  It  is  abundantly  manifest,  that  the  wife 
of  the  humble  preacher  fell  not  short  of  an  Arria  or  a 
Lady  Russell  in  soul."  He  might  have  added,  that  Pliny 
had  not  a  better  comforter  in  his  Hispulla,  nor  Cicero  an 
abler  advocate  in  his  Terentia,  than  Bunyan  had  in  his 
Elizabeth. 

Mr.  St.  John  has  done  himself  great  credit  by  saying 
of  the  second  Mrs.  Bunyan,  that  she  was  "  worthy  of  the 
first."  The  first  deserves  this  tribute,  although  she  had 
neither  the  talents  nor  the  spirit  of  the  second :  for  her 
meek  and  quiet  spirit  made  her  as  emphatically  "  a  help- 
mate" for  Bunyan  whilst  he  was  a  prisoner  in  Doubting 
Castle,  as  Elizabeth  was  when  he  was  a  prisoner  in  Bedford 
Jail.  It  may  be  said  of  each  of  them  with  equal  truth ; 
"  of  this  fine  high-minded  Englishwoman,  little,  by  far 
too  little  is  known." 

I  can  hardly  forgive  Bunyan  for  saying  so  little  about 
his  first  wife.  He  has  not  said  much,  indeed,  about  the 
second ;  but  then,  he  has  allowed  her  to  speak  for  herself ; 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  309 

whereas,  he  has  left  only  the  icarks  of  the  first  "  to  praise 
her  in  the  gate."  Well ;  her  works  are  no  mute  memorial! 
Perhaps  Bunyan  thought  so,  and  therefore  was  silent ;  for 
fine  taste  was  one  of  the  instincts  of  his  genius.  He  shewed 
this,  by  saying  nothing  of  her  death.  That  was  most  likely 
hastened  by  the  calumny  and  threatenings,  which  assailed 
him  so  long  and  sharply.  These  ^^  smayed"  (dismayed), 
at  first,  even  the  high  spirit  of  his  young  wife ;  and  well 
nigh  proved  as  fatal  to  herself  as  to  her  first-born.  No 
wonder,  therefore,  if  they  brought  the  wife  of  his  youth  to 
a  premature  grave,  after  all  the  hard  work,  and  harder 
watching,  which  she  had  gone  through  for  many  years. 
He  did  well,  therefore,  in  saying  nothing  about  her  death, 
in  his  Narratives.  He  could  only  have  traced  it  to  the 
same  cause,  which  perilled  the  life  of  Elizabeth ;  and  as 
this  must  have  drawn  down  public  odium,  if  not  indigna- 
tion, upon  the  ringleaders  of  his  enemies,  he  remained 
silent,  that  they  might  be  safe.  Besides,  Bunyan  never 
brings  forward  any  part  of  his  domestic  history,  but  when 
it  is  essential  to  explain  leading  points  in  his  character  or 
ministry  ;  and  even  then,  the  references  are  but  slight ; 
for  he  is  delicately  modest,  even  when  he  is  most  egotistical ; 
and  always  more  concerned  for  his  public  object,  than  for 
his  private  afi'airs.  Accordingly,  he  allows  Elizabeth  no 
second  opportunity  of  displaying  either  her  conjugal  and 
maternal  character,  or  her  natural  eloquence  and  noble 
spirit,  after  she  has  defended  his  ministerial  rights  before 
the  Judges.  Indeed,  from  that  time  she  disappears  alto- 
gether. It  is  delightful,  however,  to  trace  in  the  subsequent 
narrative,  the  high  zest  and  complacency  with  which 
Bunyan  records,  what  Mr.  St.  John  well  calls  the  "  intrepid 
replies  of  his  young  wife,  when  pleading  for  his  liberty,  in 
language  which  the  most  Patrician  lips  might  not  have 
scorned,  and  which  shook  the  resolution,  or  disturbed  the 
equanimity,  of  more  than  one  of  the  assembly."  Bunyan 
says,  "  After  I  had  received  sentence  of  Banishment  or 


3]0  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Hanging  from  them,  and  after  the  former  admonition, 
touching  the  determination  of  the  justices,  if  I  did  not 
recant ;  just  when  the  time  drew  nigh,  in  which  I  should 
have  abjured^  or  have  done  worse  (as  Mr.  Cobb  told  me) 
came  the  time  in  which  the  king  was  to  be  crowned,  April 
23,  1661.  Now  at  the  coronation  of  kings,  there  is  usually 
a  releasement  of  divers  prisoners  by  virtue  of  his  corona- 
tion ;  in  which  privilege  also  I  should  have  had  my  share ; 
but  that  they  took  me  ior  s,  convicted  person,  and  therefore, 
unless  I  sued  out  a  pardon  (as  they  called  it),  I  could  have 
no  benefit  thereby,  notwithstanding ;  yet  forasmuch  as  the 
coronation  proclamation  did  give  liberty  from  the  day  the 
king  was  crowned,  to  that  day  twelvemonth  to  sue  it  out ; 
therefore,  though  they  would  not  let  me  out  of  prison,  as 
they  let  out  thousands,  yet  they  could  not  meddle  with  me, 
as  touching  the  execution  of  their  sentence  ;  because  of  the 
liberty  offered  for  the  suing  out  of  pardons.  Whereupon 
I  continued  in  prison  till  the  next  assizes,  which  are  called 
Midsummer  Assizes,  being  then  kept  in  August  1661. 

"  Now  at  that  assizes,  because  I  would  not  leave  any 
possible  means  unattempted  that  might  be  lawful ;  I  did, 
by  my  wife,  present  a  petition  to  the  judges  three  times, 
that  I  might  be  heard,  and  that  they  would  impartially 
take  my  case  into  consideration. 

"  The  first  time  my  wife  went,  she  presented  it  to  Judge 
Hale,  who  very  mildly  received  it  at  her  hand,  telling  her 
that  he  would  do  her  and  me  the  best  good  he  could ;  but 
he  feared,  he  said,  he  could  do  none.  The  next  day  again, 
lest  they  should,  through  the  multitude  of  business  forget 
me,  we  did  throw  another  petition  into  the  coach  to  Judge 
Twisdon ;  who,  when  he  had  seen  it,  snapt  her  up,  and 
angrily  told  her  that  I  was  a  convicted  person,  and  could 
not  be  released,  unless  I  would  promise  to  preach  no 
more,  &c. 

"  Well,  after  this,  she  yet  again  presented  another  to 
Judge  Hale  as  he  sat  on  the  bench,  who,  as  it  seemed,  was 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  311 

willing  to  give  her  audience.  Only  Justice  Chester  being 
present,  stept  up  and  said,  that  I  was  convicted  in  the 
court,  and  that  I  was  a  hot-spirited  fellow  (or  words  to 
that  purpose)  whereat  he  waved  it,  and  did  not  meddle 
therewith.  But  yet,  my  wife  being  encouraged  by  the 
high-sheriff,  did  venture  once  more  into  their  presence  (as 
the  poor  widow  did  before  the  unjust  judge)  to  try  what 
she  could  do  with  them  for  my  liberty,  before  they  went 
forth  of  the  town.  The  place  where  she  went  to  them,  was 
to  the  Swan-chamber,  where  the  two  judges,  and  many 
justices  and  gentry  of  the  country,  were  in  company 
together.  She  then  coming  into  the  chamber  with  abashed 
face,  and  a  trembling  heart,  began  her  errand  to  them  in 
this  manner. 

"  Woman.  My  Lord  (directing  herself  to  Judge  Hale) 
I  make  bold  to  come  once  again  to  your  Lordship,  to  know 
what  may  be  done  with  my  husband. 

"  Judge  Hale.  To  whom  he  said.  Woman,  I  told  thee 
before  I  could  do  thee  no  good ;  because  they  have  taken 
that  for  a  conviction  which  thy  husband  spoke  at  the 
sessions  :  and  unless  there  be  something  done  to  undo 
that,  I  can  do  thee  no  good. 

"  WoM.  My  Lord,  said  she,  he  is  kept  unlawfully  in 
prison :  they  clapped  him  up  before  there  were  any 
proclamations  against  the  meetings :  the  indictment  also 
is  false  :  besides,  they  never  asked  him  whether  he 
was  guilty  or  no ;  neither  did  he  confess  the  indict- 
ment. 

*'  One  of  the  Justices.  Then  one  of  the  Justices  that 
stood  by,  whom  she  knew  not,  said,  My  Lord,  he  was 
lawfully  convicted. 

"  WoM.  It  is  false,  said  she,  for  when  they  said  to  him, 
do  you  confess  the  indictment  ?  He  said  only  this,  that  he 
had  been  at  several  meetings,  both  where  there  were 
preaching  the  word,  and  prayer,  and  that  they  had  God's 
presence  among  them. 


312  LIFK    OF    BUNYAN. 

"  Judge  Twisdon.  Whereat  Judge  Twisdon  answered 
very  angrily,  saying,  What  you  think  we  can  do  what  we 
list ;  your  husband  is  a  breaker  of  the  peace,  and  is  con- 
victed by  the  law,  &c.  Whereupon  Judge  Hale  called  for 
the  statute-book. 

"  WoM.  But,  said  she,  my  Lord,  he  was  not  lawfully 
convicted. 

"  Chester.  Then  Justice  Chester  said,  my  Lord,  he 
was  lawfully  convicted. 

"  WoM.  It  is  false,  said  she ;  it  was  but  a  word  of  dis- 
course that  they  took  for  a  conviction  (as  you  heard 
before). 

*'  Chest.  But  it  is  recorded,  Woman,  it  is  recorded,  said 
Justice  Chester.  As  if  it  must  be  of  necessity  true  because 
it  was  recorded!  With  which  words  he  often  endeavoured 
to  stop  her  mouth,  having  no  other  argument  to  convince 
her,  but  '  it  is  recorded,  it  is  recorded.' 

"  WoM.  My  Lord,  said  she,  I  was  a  while  since  at 
London,  to  see  if  I  could  get  my  husband's  liberty,  and 
there  I  spoke  with  my  Lord  Barkwood,  one  of  the  House 
of  Lords,  to  whom  I  delivered  a  petition,  who  took  it  of 
me  and  presented  it  to  some  of  the  rest  of  the  House  of 
Lords,  for  my  husband's  releasement ;  who,  when  they  had 
seen  it,  they  said,  that  they  could  not  release  him,  but  had 
committed  his  releasement  to  the  judges,  at  the  next 
assizes.  This  he  told  me ;  and  now  I  am  come  to  you  to 
see  if  any  thing  may  be  done  in  this  business,  and  you  give 
neither  releasement  nor  relief!  To  which  they  gave  her 
no  answer,  but  made  as  if  they  heard  her  not.  Only 
Justice  Chester  was  often  up  with  this,  *  He  is  convicted,* 
and  '  it  is  recorded.' 

"  WoM.  If  it  be,  it  i^false^  said  she. 

"  Chest.  My  Lord,  said  Justice  Chester,  he  is  ia.  pestilent 
fellow ;  there  is  not  such  a  fellow  in  the  country  again. 

"  Twis.  What,  will  your  husband  leave  preaching.''  If 
he  will  do  so,  then  send  for  him. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  313 

"  WoM.  My  Lord,  said  she,  he  dares  not  leave  preach- 
ing-, as  long  as  he  can  speak. 

"  Twis.  See  here,  what  should  we  talk  any  more  about 
such  a  fellow  ?  Must  he  do  what  he  lists  ?  He  is  a  breaker 
of  the  peace. 

"  WoM.  She  told  him  again,  that  he  desired  to  live 
peaceably,  and  to  follow  his  calling,  that  his  family  might 
be  maintained ;  and  moreover,  said  she,  my  Lord,  I  have 
four  small  children,  that  cannot  help  themselves,  one  of 
which  is  Mind,  and  we  have  nothing  to  live  upon,  but  the 
charity  of  good  people. 

"Hale.  Hast  thou  four  children?  said  Judge  Hale; 
thou  art  but  a  young  woman  to  have  four  children. 

"  WoM.  My  Lord,  said  she,  I  am  but  mother-in-law  to 
them,  having  not  been  married  to  him  yet  full  two  years. 
Indeed  I  was  with  child  when  my  husband  was  first  appre- 
hended :  but  being  young,  and  unaccustomed  to  such 
things,  said  she,  I  being  smayed  at  the  news,  fell  into 
labour,  and  so  continued  for  eight  days,  and  then  was 
delivered,  but  my  child  died. 

"  Hale.  Whereat,  he  looking  very  soberly  on  the 
matter,  said,  Alas  poor  woman  ! 

"  Twis.  But  Judge  Twisdon  told  her,  that  she  made 
poverty  her  cloak  ;  and  said,  moreover,  that  he  under- 
stood, I  was  maintained  better  by  running  up  and  down  a 
preaching,  than  by  following  my  calling. 

"  Hale.  What  is  his  calling  ?  said  Judge  Hale. 

"  Answer.  Then  some  of  the  company  that  stood  by, 
said,  A  tinker,  my  Lord. 

"  WoM.  Yes,  said  she,  and  because  he  is  a  tinker,  and  a 
poor  man,  therefore  he  is  despised,  and  cannot  have  justice. 

*'  Hale.  Then  Judge  Hale  answered,  very  mildly,  say- 
ing, I  tell  thee,  woman,  seeing  it  is  so,  that  they  have 
taken  what  thy  husband  spake,  for  a  conviction  ;  thou 
must  either  apply  thyself  to  the  King,  or  sue  out  his  par- 
don, or  get  a  writ  of  error. 

s  s 


314  LIFE    OF    LUNYAN. 

"  Chest.  But  when  Justice  Chester  heard  him  give  her 
this  counsel ;  and  especially  (as  she  supposed)  because  he 
spoke  of  a  writ  of  error,  he  chaffed,  and  seemed  to  be  very 
much  offended ;  saying,  my  Lord,  he  will  preach  and  do 
what  he  lists. 

"  WoM.  He  preacheth  nothing  but  the  word  of  God, 
said  she. 

*'  Twis.  He  preach  the  word  of  God !  said  Twisdon 
(and  withal,  she  thought  he  would  have  struck  her),  he 
runneth  up  and  down,  and  doth  harm. 

*'  WoM.  No,  my  Lord,  said  she,  it  is  not  so,  God  hath 
owned  him,  and  done  much  good  by  him. 

*'  Twis.  God !  said  he,  his  doctrine  is  the  doctrine  of 
the  devil. 

"  WoM.  My  Lord,  said  she,  when  the  righteous  Judge 
shall  appear,  it  will  be  known,  that  his  doctrine  is  not  the 
doctrine  of  the  devil. 

"  Twis.  My  Lord,  said  he,  to  Judge  Hale,  do  not  mind 
her,  but  send  her  away. 

"  Hale.  Then  said  Judge  Hale,  I  am  sorry,  woman, 
that  I  can  do  thee  no  good  ;  thou  must  do  one  of  those 
three  things  aforesaid,  namely,  either  to  apply  thyself  to 
the  King,  or  sue  out  his  pardon,  or  get  a  writ  of  error  j — 
but  a  writ  of  error  will  be  cheapest. 

"  WoM.  At  which  Chester  again  seemed  to  be  in  a 
chafe,  and  put  off  his  hat,  and  as  she  thought,  scratched 
his  head  for  anger.  But  when  I  saw,  said  she,  that  there 
was  no  prevailing  to  have  my  husband  sent  for,  though  I 
often  desired  them  that  they  would  send  for  him,  that  he 
might  speak  for  himself,  telling  them,  that  he  could  give 
them  better  satisfaction  than  I  could,  in  what  they  de- 
manded of  him  ;  with  several  other  things,  which  now  I 
forget ;  only  this  I  remember,  that  though  I  was  somewhat 
timorous  at  my  first  entrance  into  the  chamber,  yet  before 
I  went  out,  I  could  not  but  break  forth  into  tears,  not  so 
much  because  they  were  so  hard  hearted  against  me,  and 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  315 

my  husband,  but  to  think  what  a  sad  account  such  poor 
creatures  will  have  to  g-ive  at  the  coming  of  the  Lord,  when 
they  shall  there  answer  for  all  things  whatsoever  they  have 
done  in  the  body,  whether  it  be  good,  or  whether  it  be  bad. 

*'  So  when  I  departed  from  them,  the  book  of  statutes 
was  brought,  but  what  they  said  of  it,  I  know  nothing  at 
all,  neither  did  I  hear  any  more  from  them.*'  So  Empona 
pleaded  for  her  husband,  Julius  Sabinus,  before  Vespasian  ; 
but  although  the  Emperor  wept  like  Hale,  he  decreed  like 
Twisdon  and  Chester. 

Judge  Hale  appears  here,  as  in  everything  but  the  trial 
of  Witches,  to  great  advantage.  Twisdon  also  appears 
what  he  was, — a  reckless  time-server.  He  had  no  pity  for 
Bunyan,  and  no  patience  with  Elizabeth  ;  but  he  afterwards 
acquitted  Crowther  (a  very  Titus  Oates,  or  Dangerfield, 
for  getting  up  plots),  whom  the  poor  mechanics  of  Man- 
chester had  denounced  as  a  TrepanneVy  to  the  government. 
This  occurred  during  the  progress  of  the  Lancashire  Plot, 
when  all  means  were  tried  to  implicate  Lord  Delamere  and 
Sir  Richard  Houghton  in  a  conspiracy. 

There  is  a  pamphlet  on  this  subject,  now  very  rare, 
entitled  "The  Grand  Trepan  Detected,"  1667.  It  was 
written  by  Evan  Price,  a  poor  labourer,  who  was  alter- 
nately tempted  and  punished  by  Sir  R.  Mosely,  to  give 
evidence  against  Lord  Delamere  and  his  suspected  friends. 
Poor  Evan  had  nothing  to  tell,  although  he  was  offered  a 
thousand  pounds,  or  one-tenth  of  the  estates  of  all  wiiom 
he  might  betray.  He  became  an  author,  however,  when 
he  found  that  Twisdon  acquitted,  and  the  Government 
rewarded  Crowther,  the  Trepanner.  His  Tract  is  pre- 
served in  the  unique  collection  of  the  Baptist  College  in 
Bristol.  Twisdon  was  also  one  of  the  Judges  who  sat 
on  the  trial  of  Lord  Morly  for  murder  in  1666,  when  all 
the  Judges  of  England,  but  Keyling,  wore  their  scarlet 
robes,  but  forgot  to  bring  their  collars  of  S.S. — Sir  J.  B. 
Williams'  Life  of  Hale. 


316  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

BUNYAN  AND  THE  PRAYER-BOOK. 
1662. 

As  Bunyan  has  been  tried  again  for  Nonconformity  by 
Dr.  Southey,  and  brought  in  guilty — of  being  at  "  that 
time,  no  preacher  of  good  will,  nor  of  christian  charity  ;" 
and  but  "  little  reasonable  or  tolerant "  towards  the  Prayer 
Book, — it  is  necessary  to  examine  the  grounds  of  this  con- 
clusion. And,  happily,  the  question.  Why,  and  how  far, 
he  disliked  the  Prayer  Book,  can  be  answered  without 
putting  that  Book  upon  its  trial.  I  have  no  inclination  to 
sit  in  judgment  upon  that  venerable  volume,  as  a  whole. 
I  have  already  said,  that  Bunyan  was  unduly  prejudiced 
against  it :  for  I  neither  question,  nor  wonder,  that  the 
Liturgy  is  found  to  be  a  Bethel  Ladder,  by  which  devo- 
tional minds  can  ascend  from  earth  to  heaven  with  angel- 
like alacrity,  and  weak  minds  are  "  mightily  helped."  Still, 
the  more  true  this  is,  the  more  criminal  it  was  to  enforce 
liturgical  worship  by  the  sword.  Besides,  Bunyan  could 
both  worship,  and  conduct  worship  well,  without  it.  He 
felt  no  more  need  of  it  than  Jacob  did  on  Peniel,  or  the 
Apostles  in  Jerusalem.  The  Prayer  Book  would,  I  think, 
have  been  very  useful  to  his  village-flocks,  when  he  could 
not  meet  them,  if  they  had  been  allowed  to  use  it  just  as 
they  wanted  it.  But  they  were  not.  They  were  com- 
manded to  hear  it  at  Church,  whatever  the  Reader  of  it 
might  be  in  creed  or  character.     They  must  pray  by  it. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  317 

even  if  he  preached  doctrines  at  variance  with  both  the 
letter  of  its  Articles,  and  the  spirit  of  its  Confessions. 
Besides,  submission  to  it  involved  submission  to  other 
things,  which  had  none  of  its  redeeming  qualities  to  com- 
mend them. 

This,  Bunyan  would  neither  do  nor  teach :  and  if  he 
was  not  right,  the  Toleration  Act  is  wrong  ;  for  he  did 
nothing  then,  but  what  every  man  may  do  lawfully  now. 
The  entire  nation  (with  the  exception  of  the  Sovereign) 
are  at  perfect  liberty  to  do  all  that  John  Bunyan  did.  Let 
it  not  be  supposed,  however,  that  he  found  no  fault  with 
extempore  prayer  because  he  rejected  the  Prayer  Book. 
He  both  said  and  wrote  as  severe  things  against  the  faults 
of  the  former,  as  against  the  defects  of  the  latter.  "  I 
think,"  he  says,  "  that  the  prayer  of  the  Pharisee  in  the 
temple  was  no  stinted  form,  but  a  prayer  extempore,  made 
on  a  sudden,  according  to  what  he  felt,  thought,  or  under- 
stood of  himself.  We  may  therefore  see  that  even  prayer, 
as  well  as  other  acts  of  religious  worship,  may  be  performed 
in  great  hypocrisy.  I  am  not  against  extempore  prayer  j 
for  I  believe  it  to  be  the  best  kind  of  praying :  but  yet  I 
am  jealous,  that  there  be  a  great  many  such  prayers  made, 
especially  in  pulpits  and  meetings,  without  the  breathing  of 
the  Holy  Ghoitr— Works,  p.  993. 

In  the  same  spirit  he  says  (after  exposing  Treyicher- 
Chaplains),  others  seek  repute  and  applause  for  their 
eloquent  terms.  They  eye  only  their  auditory  in  their 
expressions.  They  look  for  returns — but  it  is  for  the 
idndy  applause  of  men.  When  their  mouths  are  done 
going,  their  prayers  are  ended.  They  love  not  their 
chambers,  but  among  company. —  Works,  p.  2142. 

Bunyan  did  not  conceal  even  his  own  deficiencies  in 
prayer,  when  he  wrote  against  forms.  "  Were  I  to  tell 
you  my  own  experience,"  he  says,  "  the  difficulty  (1  feel  at 
times)  in  praying,  would  make  you  have  strange  thoughts 
of  me.     Oh,  the  starting-holes  that  the  heart  hath  in  the 


318 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


time  of  prayer !  None  knows  how  many  by-ways  and 
back-lanes  the  heart  hath  to  slip  away  from  the  presence 
of  God.  How  much  pride  also,  if  enabled  with  expres- 
sions !  How  much  hypocrisy,  if  before  others !  And  how 
little  conscience  there  is  made  of  prayer  in  secret,  unless 
the  spirit  of  supplication  be  there  to  help!" — Works, 
p.  2134. 

Thus,  if  the  Church  could  not  gag  Bunyan,  neither 
could  the  Meeting.  But  was  he  unreasonable  or  intole- 
rant, in  thus  exposing  the  faults  of  extempore  prayer  ? 
Would  the  Presbyterians  of  that  day  have  been  excusable, 
if  they  had  persecuted  him  for  these  attacks  upon  their 
prayers  ?  Dr.  Chalmers  has  surely  as  much  right  to  com- 
plain as  Dr.  Southey.     But  he  is  silent. 

I  know  of  nothing  Bunyan  has  said  against  forms, 
severer  than  what  I  have  quoted  against  parade  and  heart- 
lessness  without  them.  In  his  "  Instructions  to  the  Igno- 
rant," a  work  widely  circulated  then,  he  says  nothing 
against  the  Prayer  Book,  but  much  against  prayerlessness. 
Even  in  his  Treatise  on  Prayer, — the  first  work  he  wrote 
in  prison,  whilst  smarting  for  his  nonconformity, — he 
repeats  what  he  said  to  his  Judges,  that  he  would  have  no 
one  hindered  from  using  the  Common  Prayer. 

He  did,  however,  "  exhort  the  people  of  God,  to  take 
heed  that  they  touched  not  the  Common  Prayer."  This 
was  in  bad  taste,  certainly.  It  was  not,  however,  such 
disobedience  to  the  Laws,  as  it  seems  at  first  sight :  for  the 
advice  was  given,  not  to  the  people  of  the  realm,  but  to 
'*  the  people  of  God  :" — in  other  words,  to  Bunyan's  own 
people,  and  to  those  who  thought  with  him.  He  did  not 
intrude  himself,  nor  his  advice,  upon  Episcopalian  congre- 
gations or  families  ;  and  he  was  too  poor  to  distribute  his 
Treatise  on  Prayer  amongst  them.  The  question,  there- 
fore, comes  to  this, — had  he  a  right  to  call  upon  the  people 
of  his  own  communion  to  abide  by  their  own  principles  .f* 
Tlie  Laws  said,  no,  then.     They  say,  yes,  now.     Well  ;  il 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  319 

the  latter  be  the  true  answer,  our  Legislature  have  to 
thank  John  Bunyan  for  enabling-  them  to  abrogate  unjust 
laws.  He  did,  single-handed,  what  the  joint  wisdom  of 
successive  Parliaments  has  well  nigh  perfected,  —  fling 
Stuart-Law  to  the  winds. 

Besides,  it  was  not  so  much  what  is  in  the  Prayer-Book, 
as  what  the  promiscuous  use  of  it  led  to,  that  Bunyan  con- 
demned. It  was  the  very  excellence  of  certain  forms,  that 
made  him  denounce  the  formal  use  of  them.  He  says, 
indeed,  that  there  are  "  absurdities  "  in  the  Book  :  but  he 
singles  out  no  petition  nor  confession  of  it  for  reprehension. 
(How  could  he  ?)  It  was  not  the  Lord's  Prayer  itself  he 
objected  to  ;  but  the  Laws  which  "  compelled  every  whore- 
monger, drunkard,  and  swearer,  to  say  to  God,  '  Our 
Father  which  art  in  heaven.' "  *'  Must  all  the  rabble  in  the 
world,"  he  asks,  "  be  made  to  say  '  Our  Father,'  because 
the  saints  are  commanded  to  say  so  ?"  In  the  same  spirit, 
he  contends,  that  it  was  blasphemy  to  "  compel  men  to  say 
so,  who  were  cursing  and  persecuting  the  children  of  God." 
They  may  be  bold  men,  but  they  are  not  ivise  men,  who 
differ  from  Bunyan  in  this  matter.  It  was  no  opinion  of 
his,  however,  that  only  the  pious  should  pray.  In  answer 
to  the  question, — *'  Would  you  have  none  pray  but  those 
that  know  they  are  disciples  of  Christ  ?" — he  says,  "  Let 
every  soul  that  would  be  saved  pour  out  itself  to  God, 
though  it  cannot  conclude  itself  a  child  of  God.  Prayer  is 
one  of  the  first  things  that  discover  a  man  to  be  a 
Christian."— TTor^*,  p.  2140. 

Bunyan's  chief  objection  to  the  Prayer-Book  was,  that 
it  was  both  "  exalted  above  the  spirit  of  prayer,"  and 
employed  to  "  quench  that  spirit ;"  inasmuch  as  all  other 
prayers  were  prohibited  then,  in  Church.  This  "  muzzling 
up  to  a  form,"  he  denounced,  without  ceremony  or  circum- 
locution. It  was  not,  however,  until  that  Form  was  set  in 
open  rivalry  to  the  spirit  of  supplication,  and  the  prisons 
were  filled  with  prayerful  men,  and  the  Ale-Houses  ringing 


320  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

with  jibes  and  curses  on  all  who  prayed  "  without  book," 
that  he  called  it  a  "  cursed  superstition."  And  this  name, 
althoug-h  not  at  all  deserved  by  it,  was  richly  deserved  by 
the  purpose  for  which  it  was  employed  against  the  Non- 
conformists,— when  they,  however  peaceable  and  exem- 
plary, were  treated  as  factious,  seditious,  and  heretical, 
because  they  would  not  bow  the  knee  by  it.  I  am  no 
apologist  for  Bunyan's  severe  invectives.  I  have  no 
sympathy  with  him  when  he  says,  that  the  Prayer-Book  is 
a  work  of  "  scraps  and  fragments,  devised  by  Popes  and 
Friars:"  but,  were  it  again  bristled  with  instruments  of 
cruelty,  and  enacted  to  prevent  free  prayer  in  the  pulpit, 
I  would  say,  that  a  great  Blessing  was  turned  into  a  hea\7 
Curse  ;  and  tens  of  thousands,  not  Dissenters,  would  say 
the  same.  Why  ;  we  should  never  have  had  the  Liturgy 
we  possess,  had  not  its  authors  been  at  liberty  to  pray  as 
the  Holy  Spirit  helped  their  infirmities.  It  was,  therefore, 
a  poor  compliment,  and  a  base  return,  to  its  devotional 
authors,  to  '*  muzzle  up"  to  their  forms,  equally  devotional 
men.  The  Bunyans  and  Baxters  of  these  times,  were  as 
mighty  in  prayer  as  any  of  the  Greek  or  Latin  Fathers. 
There  are  also  in  Jeremy  Taylor's  Life  of  Christ,  and  in 
Milton's  Prose  Works,  prayers  equal  to  any  uninspired 
forms  in  existence. 

It  ought  not  to  be  utterly  useless,  nor  at  all  offensive,  to 
glance  thus  at  the  question  of  Forms,  in  connexion  with 
Bunyan.  No  Dissenter  would  speak  of  the  Prayer  Book 
now, — so  far  as  it  is  a  book  of  prayers, — as  Bunyan  did : 
and  no  Churchman  would  wish  it  to  be  such  a  Shibboleth 
as  Clarendon  and  Sheldon  made  it.  Might  not  both 
parties  try,  therefore,  how  kindly  they  could  think  and 
speak  of  their  respective  modes  of  worship  ?  Dissenters 
have  not  the  provocation  to  rail  or  reason  against  the 
Liturgy,  which  Bunyan  had ;  and  Churchmen  have  not 
the  power  to  bring  free  prayer  into  disrepute.  Besides,  it 
is  impossible  to  make  either  mode  supplant  the  other,  now 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  321 

that  the  adherents  of  each  are  so  equally  balanced,  and  the 
admirers  of  each  so  competent  to  judg-e  for  themselves. 
Surely,  therefore,  it  is  hig-h  time  for  Nonconformists  to 
allow  that  a  Minister,  who  has  but  slender  gifts  in  prayer 
would  do  well  to  enrich  his  worship  from  the  Liturgy  ; 
and  for  Conformists  to  admit  that  a  Clerg-yman,  who 
cannot  pray  at  all  without  a  form,  is  unfit  to  minister  at 
the  altar  of  God,  except  when  the  inability  is  nervous. 
Such  concessions  might  be  safely  and  honourably  made  on 
both  sides ;  and  the  devotional  character  of  the  ministry  at 
large  would  be  improved  by  them. 

It  is  not  meant  by  these  remarks,  to  commend,  or 
approve  the  adoption  of  the  Liturgy,  by  Dissenting  Con- 
gregations. This  cannot  be  done  now  with  honour.  It 
was  done  with  perfect  honour,  during  the  last  Century ; 
but  now  it  is  called  a  trick  to  catch  Churchmen.  There 
seems  some  truth  in  this ;  for,  of  late,  such  experiments 
have  failed.  They  deserved  to  fail,  if  their  object  was 
to  entrap  the  unwary  ;  and  especially,  when  they  have 
opposed  an  evangelical  clergyman.  The  Rector  of  the 
principal  town  in  the  Kingdom  said  to  me — "  It  is  mean 
to  oppose  our  Church  by  her  own  Prayers."  I  quite  agree 
with  him,  as  to  all  towns  and  parishes  where  the  Gospel  is 
preached.  Wherever  it  is  not  preached,  any  means  are 
legitimate,  which  can  fairly  introduce  it ! 


322  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


CHAPTER  XXVL 

BUNYAN*S    FAVOURITE    SERMON. 

Having  seen  the  opinion  of  Lindale,  Foster,  Cobb  and 
the  Judges,  concerning"  the  character  and  tendency  of 
Banyan's  preaching,  a  characteristic  specimen  of  it  will 
enable  us  to  judge  for  ourselves  how  far  it  was  likely  to 
injure  the  Church  or  the  State.  The  following  extracts 
are  from  his  favourite  Sermon,  on  the  words,  "  Begin- 
ning at  Jerusalem."  I  call  it  his  favouritey  because  he 
says  he  preached  it  often,  and  but  seldom  without  success. 
It  is  only  common-place  at  first  j  but  it  soon  breathes 
and  burns  with  all  the  energy  and  ingenuity  of  the 
author. 

"  The  Apostles,  although  they  had  a  commission  so 
large  as  to  warrant  them  to  go  and  preach  the  Gospel  in 
all  the  world,  were  to  begin  this  work  at  Jerusalem.  I 
must  touch  upon  two  things.  1.  What  Jerusalem  now 
was.     2.  What  it  was  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  them. 

*'  1.  As  to  her  descent,  Jerusalem  was  from  Abraham  and 
the  sons  of  Jacob,  a  people  that  God  singled  out  from  the 
rest  of  the  nations,  to  set  his  love  upon  them. 

*'  2.  As  to  \\eY  preference  of  exaltation,  she  was  the  place 
of  God's  worship,  and  had  in  and  with  her  the  special 
tokens  and  signs  of  God's  favour  and  presence,  above  any 
other  people  in  the  world. 

"  3.  As  to  her  decays,  she  was  now  greatly  backslidden, 
and  become  the   place  where  Truth  was  much  defaced. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  323 

Jerusalem  was  now  become  the  very  sink  of  sin,  and  seat 
of  hypocrisy,  and  gulf  where  true  religion  was  drowned. 
In  a  word,  she  was  now  the  shambles  and  slaughter-house 
of  the  saints.  Yea,  Christ,  their  Lord  and  Maker,  could 
not  escape  (that  people).  They  rested  not  until  they  had 
driven  Him  out  of  the  world,  and  they  would  have  extin- 
guished His  name,  if  they  could,  that  men  might  not  count 
him  the  Saviour  of  the  world. 

"  This  is  the  city,  and  these  are  the  people  ; — this  is 
their  character,  and  these  are  their  sins !  Nor  can  there 
be  produced  their  parallel  in  all  this  world.  Infinite  was 
their  wickedness,  if  you  join  to  the  matter  of  fact,  the 
Light  they  sinned  against,  and  the  Patience  they  abused. 

*'  And  now  we  come  to  the  clause,  *  Beginning  at 
Jerusalem  :*  that  is,  Christ  would  have  Jerusalem  get  the 
first  offer  of  the  Gospel. 

**  1.  This  cannot  be  so  commanded,  because  they  had 
any  right  of  themselves :  for  their  sins  had  divested  them 
of  all  self-deservings. 

"  2.  Nor  yet,  because  they  stood  upon  the  advance 
ground  with  the  worst  sinners  of  the  Nations.  Jerusalem 
was  worse  than  the  very  nations  that  God  cast  out  before 
the  Israelites.    2  Chron.  33. 

"  3.  It  must,  therefore,  follow,  that  the  clause  *  Begin 
at  Jerusalem,'  was  put  into  this  commission,  out  of  mere 
grace  and  compassion  ;  even  from  the  overflowings  of  rich 
Mercy. 

"  From  these  words  thus  explained,  we  gain  this  Obser- 
vation,— that  Jesus  Christ  would  have  mercy  ofi"ered  in 
the  first  place  to  the  biggest  sinners.  Preach  repentance 
and  remission  of  sins  to  the  Jerusalem  sinners  first. 

**  One  would  a-thoughty  since  they  were  the  worst  and 
greatest  sinners,  and  those  who  had  not  only  despised  the 
person,  doctrine,  and  miracles  of  Christ,  but  also  had  had 
their  hands  up  to  the  elbows  in  His  heart's  blood,  that 
He  would  have  said,  *  Go  into  all  the  world,  and  preach 


324 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


repentance  and  remission ;  and  after  that,  offer  the  same 
to  Jerusalem.  Yea,  it  had  been  infinite  grace, — if  he  had 
said  so  I 

"  This  was  not  the  first  time  Jesus  shewed  a  desire,  that 
the  ivorst  of  these  worst  should  first  come  to  him.  Matt. 
xxi.  31  ;  ^.  b,Q\  xxiii.  37.  These,  therefore,  had  the 
cream  of  the  Gospel,  who  had  the  first  offer  in  His  life- 
time. 

"  The  Apostles  did  not  overlook  this  clause,  when  their 
Lord  was  gone  into  heaven.  They  WQwi  first  to  Jerusalem, 
and  abode  there  for  a  season,  preaching  Christ's  gospel  to 
nobody  else.  And  their  first  Sermon  was  to  the  worst  of 
the  Jerusalem  sinners ;  even  to  the  Murderers  of  Jesus 
Christ.  Peter  said  to  them — without  the  hast  stick,  or 
stop,  or  pause  of  spirit,  as  to  whether  he  had  best  say  so 
or  not, — '  Repent  and  be  baptized  every  one  of  you.  I 
shut  out  never  a  one  of  you :  for  I  am  commanded  by  my 
Lord  to  deal  with  y^^u  one  by  one,  by  the  word  of  His 
salvation.  Repent  every  one  of  you,  for  the  remission  of 
sins ;  and  you  shall,  every  one  of  you,  receive  the  gift  of 
the  Holy  Ghost.'" 

Bunyan  now  supposes  some  of  Peter's  hearers  unable  to 
credit  this  in  their  own  case,  at  once. 

"  1.  Objector.  But  I  was  one  of  those  that  plotted  to 
take  away  His  life.     May  I  be  saved  by  him  ? 

*'  Peter.  Every  one  of  you  ! 

"  2.  Objector.  But  I  was  one  of  them  that  bare  false 
witness  against  him.     Is  there  grace  for  me  ? 

"  Peter.  For  every  one  of  you  ! 

*'  3.  But  I  was  one  of  them  that  cried  out,  '  Crucifv, 
crucify  Him,^  and  that  desired  Barabbas  the  murderer 
might  live.    What  will  become  of  me,  think  you  ? 

"  Peter.  I  am  to  preach  Remission  of  sins  to  every  one 
of  you ! 

*'  4.  Objector.  But  I  was  one  of  them  that  did  spit  in 
His  face,  when  he  stood  before  his  accusers,  and  one  that 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  325 

mocked  Him  when  in  anguish  he  hung  bleeding  on  the 
tree  !     Is  there  room  for  me  ? 

"  Peter.  For  every  one  of  you  I 

"  5.  Objector.  But  I  was  one  of  them  that  in  his 
Extremity  said,  '  Give  him  gall  and  vinegar  to  drink. 
Why  may  I  not  expect  the  same^  when  anguish  and  guilt 
are  upon  me  ? 

"  Peter.  Repent  of  these  wickednesses ;  and  here  is 
remission  of  sins  for  every  one  of  you  ! 

"  6.  Objector.  But  I  railed  on  Him — reviled  Him — 
hated  Him — and  rejoiced  to  see  him  mocked  at  by  others. 
Can  there  be  hope  for  me  ? 

"  Peter.  There  is  for  every  one  of  you  !'* 

Bunyan  then  asks,  "  Did  not  Peter,  think  ye,  see  a 
great  deal  in  this  clause  of  the  Commission, — that  he 
should  thus  offer,  so  particularly,  this  Grace  to  each  par- 
ticular man  ?  But  this  is  not  all !  These  Jerusalem 
Sinners  must  have  this  offer  again  and  again ;  every  one 
of  them  must  be  offered  grace  over  and  over.  Christ 
would  not  take  their  first  rejection  for  a  denial,  nor  their 
second  repulse  for  a  denial.  Christ  will  not  be  put  off 
thus :  but  will  have  grace  offered  once,  twice,  thrice  to 
them.  What  a  pitch  of  grace  is  this.  Christ  was  minded 
to  amaze  the  world. 

"  Peter  too,  to  draw  them  the  better  under  the  net  of 
the  gospel,  put  himself,  like  a  heavenly  decoy  (bird)  among 
them,  saying,  *  There  is  none  other  Name  whereby  we 
must  be  saved.' 

"  Thus,  you  see,  I  have  proved  the  doctrine.  I  shall 
now  proceed  to  shew  you  the  reasons  of  the  point,  and 
then  make  some  application.  The  Reasons  of  the  point 
are, 

"  1.  Because  the  biggest  Sinners  have  most  need  of 
mercy.  Reason  says,  '  he  that  has  most  need  should  be 
helped  first :'  I  mean, — when  a  helping  Hand  is  offered  ; 
and  God  sent  the  Gospel  to  help  the  world.    Now  suppose, 


326  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

that  as  thou  art  walking"  at  some  Pond  side,  thou  shouldst 
espy  in  it  four  or  five  children  in  danger  of  drowning-,  and 
07ie  in  more  danger  than  all  the  rest : — Judge  which  has 
most  need  to  be  helped  out  first.  I  know  thou  wilt  say, — 
*  he  that  is  nearest  drowning.*  Why,  this  is  the  case  here  : 
the  bigger  sinner,  the  nearer  drowning.  The  Publicans 
were  in  the  very  mouth  of  Death.  Death  was  a-swallowing 
them  down ;  and  therefore  the  Lord  Jesus  offered  them 
mercy  first.  He  sat  very  loose  to  the  (self)  righteous,  but 
stuck  close  to  sinners,  in  calling  men  to  repentance. 

"  2.  Because  when  any  of  the  biggest  sinners  receive 
offered  mercy,  it  redounds  most  to  the  fame  of  Christ.  He 
has  put  himself  under  the  term.  Physician ;  a  doctor  for 
curing  all  diseases.  Now  it  is  not  by  picking  out  thistles, 
nor  by  laying  plaisters  to  the  scratch  of  a  pin,  that  doctors 
get  to  themselves  a  name  at  first.  Every  old  woman  can 
do  this.  But  if  they  would  have  a  name  and  a  fame,  and 
have  it  quickly,  they  must  do  some  great  and  desperate 
cures.  So  Christ  commands  mercy  to  be  proffered  to  the 
biggest  sinners  first,  because  by  saving  one  of  them,  he 
makes  all  men  marvel.  He  has  also  published  His  blessed 
Bills  (the  Holy  Scriptures),  with  the  very  names  of  the 
persons  upon  whom  His  great  cures  were  wrought.  Here 
is  one  item  : — '  Such  a  one  made  a  Monument  of  everlast- 
ing life,  by  my  grace  and  redeeming  blood.  And  such  a 
one,  became  an  heir  of  Glory  by  my  perfect  obedience. 
Item, — I  saved  Peter,  Magdalen,  and  many  others.'  In- 
deed there  is  but  very  little  said  in  God's  Book,  about  the 
salvation  of  little  sinners ;  because  that  would  not  answer 
the  design  (of  the  Book)  to  bring  glory  to  the  name  of  the 
Son  of  God.  Christ  could  have  laid  hold  of  an  honesfer 
man  (on  Calvary)  :  but  he  laid  hold  on  a  thief  first,  and 
took  him  away  with  Him  to  glory.  Nor  can  this  one  act 
of  His  be  ever  buried.  It  will  be  talked  of  till  the  end  of 
the  world,  to  His  praise.  '  Men  shall  abundantly  utter 
the  memory  of  this  great  goodness,  to  make  known  to  the 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  327 

sons  of  men  His  mighty  acts,  and  the  glorious  majesty  of 
His  kingdom.'    Psal.  cxlv.  10. 

"  3.  Because  others  on  hearing  mercy  offered  to  the 
biggest  sinners  first,  will  be  encouraged  the  more  to  come 
to  Christ  for  life.  He  saved  the  thief,  to  encourage  thieves 
to  come  to  Him  for  mercy  ;  Magdalen,  to  encourage 
Magdalenes  to  come  to  Him  for  mercy  ;  Saul,  to  encourage 
Sauls  to  come  to  Him  for  mercy  :  for  mercy  is  the  only 
antidote  against  sinning.  It  will  loose  the  heart  that  is 
frozen  in  sin.  Yea,  it  will  make  the  unwilling,  willing  to 
come  to  Him  for  life. 

**  4.  Because  by  shewing  mercy  to  the  worst  first, 
Christ  most  weakens  the  kingdom  of  Satan.  The  biggest 
sinners  are  Satan's  colonels  and  captains,  that  most  stoutly 
make  head  against  the  Son  of  God.  When  Ishbosheth 
lost  Abner,  he  did  but  sit  on  a  tottering  throne.  So  when 
Satan  loseth  his  strong  men,  his  kingdom  is  weak.  Samson 
when  he  would  pull  down  the  Philistines'  temple,  took 
hold  of  the  two  main  pillars  of  it ;  and  breaking  them, 
down  came  the  house.  So  Christ  came  to  destroy  the 
works  of  the  devil  by  converting  grace,  as  well  as  by 
redeeming  blood.  It  was  by  casting  him  out  of  strong 
possessions,  and  by  recovering  notorious  sinners  out  of  his 
clutches,  that  Christ  saw  him  fall  like  lightning  from 
heaven.  Why,  some  people  are  the  Devil's  sin-hreeders. 
Now,  let  the  Lord  Jesus  cleanse  first  some  of  these  sin- 
breeders,  and  there  will  be  a  nip  given  to  those  swarms  of 
sins,  in  the  town,  house,  or  family.  I  speak  from  experi- 
ence. I  was  one  of  those  great  sin-breeders.  I  infected 
all  the  youth  of  the  Town  where  I  was  born,  with  all 
manner  of  youthful  vanities.  The  neighbours  counted  me 
so.  My  practice  proved  me  so.  Wherefore  Jesus  Christ 
by  taking  me  firsts  much  allayed  the  contagion  of  sin  all 
the  Town  over.  But  what  need  to  give  you  an  instance 
of  poor  I  ? — come  to  Manasseh.  So  long  as  he  was  a  ring- 
leading  sinner — the  great  idolater — the  chief  of  devilisra. 


328  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

the  whole  land  flowed  with  wickedness.  But  when  God 
converted  him,  the  whole  land  was  reformed.  Down  went 
the  g-roves,  the  idols,  and  altars  of  Baal, — and  up  went 
true  Religion  in  its  power  and  purity. 

"  5.  Because  the  biggest  sinners  when  converted,  are 
usually  the  best  helps  in  the  Church  against  temptation, 
and  fittest  to  support  the  feeble  minded.  Hence,  usually, 
you  have  some  such  (Converts)  in  the  first  plantation  of 
churches,  or  quickly  upon  it.  Churches  would  do  but 
sorrily,  if  Jesus  Christ  did  not  put  among  them  such 
monuments  and  mirrors  of  Mercy.  The  very  sight  of 
such  a  sinner  in  God's  House,  yea  the  very  thought  of 
him,  where  a  sight  cannot  be  obtained,  is  ofttimes  greatly 
for  the  help  of  the  faith  of  the  feeble.  *  When  the 
Churches/  saith  Paul,  *  heard  concerning  me,  that  he  who 
persecuted  them  in  time  past,  now  preached  the  faith  he 
once  destroyed,  they  glorified  God  in  me.*    Gal.  i.  20. 

"  There  are  two  things  that  great  sinners  are  acquainted 
with,  which,  when  they  come  to  divulge  them,  are  a  great 
relief  to  the  faith  of  the  saints  : — 

"  The  contests  they  usually  have  with  the  devil  at  their 
parting  with  him,  and  their  knowledge  of  his  secrets.  Satan 
is  loath  to  part  with  a  great  sinner.  *  What,*  quoth  he, 
'  my  old  servant  forsake  me  now !  Thou  horrible  wretch, 
— dost  not  know  that  thou  hast  sinned  thyself  beyond  the 
reach  of  mercy?  Dost  thou  think  that  Christ  will  foul 
his  fingers  with  thee  ?  It  is  enough  to  make  Angels  blush, 
to  see  so  vile  a  one  knocking  at  heaven's  gate ;  and  wilt 
thou  be  so  abominably  bold  as  to  do  it  ?'  '  Thus  Satan 
dealt  with  me,'  says  the  great  sinner,  '  when  at  first  I  came 
to  Christ.*  '  And  what  did  you  reply  ?'  saith  the  Tempted. 
*  Why,  I  granted  the  whole  charge  to  be  true,*  saith  the 
other.  *  And  what  did  you? — Despair,  or  not?'  *  No.' 
Thus  as  I  told  you,  such  a  one  is  a  continual  spectacle  in 
the  Church,  for  every  one  to  wonder  and  behold  God*s 
grace  by.     The  Angels  came  down  to  behold  this  sight, 


LIFE    OF    liUNYAN.  329 

and  rejoice  to  see  a  hit  of  dust  and  ashes  overcome  princi- 
palities and  powers  of  darkness. 

"  6,   Because  such   sinners  when  converted  are  apt  to 
love   Christ  most.     This  agrees   with  both  scripture  and 
reason.     *  To  whom  much   is  forg"iven,  the   same   loveth 
much.'    Luke  vii.  47.     And  Reason  says,  it  would  be  the 
unreasonablest   thing"  in  the   world  to  render   hatred  for 
love.      '  I   laboured  more  for  Christ  than  them  all,'  says 
Paul.     But   Paul,   what   moved  thee  thus  to  do  ?     '  The 
love  of  Christ,'  saith  he.      Hell  doth  know  I  was  a  sinner 
of  the  greatest  size;   Heaven  doth  know  it;   the  world 
doth  know  it !     But  I  obtained  mercy.     I  am  under  the 
force  of  Love,  strong  as  death.     Can  the  waters  quench  it, 
or  the  floods  drown  it  ?      Hence  this  is  my  continual  cry, 
*  What  shall  I  render  unto  the  Lord  for  all  his  benefits?' 
Aye,  Paul,  this  is  something.     Thou  speakest  like  a  man 
affected  and  carried  away  by  the  love  and  grace  of  God. 
Christ  might   have  converted  twenty  little  sinners,  and  yet 
not  found  in  them  all  so  much  love  for  grace  bestowed. 
I    wonder   how   far    a    man   might  go    among    converted 
sinners  of  a  smaller  size,  before  he  could  find  one  that  so 
much  as  looks  anything  like  this!     Excepting  only  some 
few,   you  may  walk    to  the   world's  end,  and  find   none. 
Jesus  Christ,  therefore,  knows  what  he  does,  when  he  lays 
hold  on  the  hearts  of  sinners  of  the  biggest  size.    He,  alas, 
gets  but  little  thanks  for  saving  little  sinners.     He  gets 
not  icater  for  his  feet,  from  them.     There  are  many  dry- 
eyed  Christians  in  the  world,  and  abundance  of  dry-eyed 
duties  :  duties  never  wetted  by  the  tears  of  repentance,  nor 
sweetened  with  the  ointment  of  the  alabaster-box. 

"  7.  Christ  would  save  the  worst  first,  because  Grace 
when  it  is  received  by  them  shines  in  them.  Like  dry 
wood,  or  great  candles,  they  burn  best,  and  shine  with  the 
brightest  light.  I  lay  this  down,  to  shew  that  Christ  has  a 
delight  to  see  grace  shine.  It  was  of  idolatrous  Ephraim, 
and  backsliding  Judah,  that  it  was  said,  *  The  Lord  their 
u  u 


330  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

God  shall  save  them  as  the  flock  of  his  people ;  for  they 
shall  be  as  the  stones  of  a  Crown  lift  up  as  an  ensign  in 
the  land/   Zech.  ix.  16. 

"  8.  Because  by  that  means,  the  Impenitent  will  be  left 
without  excuse  at  the  day  of  judgment.  God's  sword  hath 
two  edges  :  it  can  cut  back-stroke  and  fore-stroke.  If  it 
do  thee  no  good,  it  will  do  thee  hurt.  It  is  the  savour  of 
life  unto  life,  or  the  savour  of  death  unto  death.  The 
condemned  will  not  have  to  say,  '  Thou  wast  only  for 
saving  little  sinners,  therefore  I  died  in  despair.'  There 
will  be  millions  of  souls  to  rise  up  at  the  Judgment-seat, 
to  confute  that  plea.  Alas,  alas,  what  will  those  sinners 
do  that,  through  Unbelief,  eclipsed  the  glorious  largeness 
of  the  mercy  of  God,  and  gave  way  to  despair  of  salvation, 
because  of  the  bigness  of  their  sins  ?  What  will  cut  like 
this  ? — '  All  in  Heaven  are  saved  by  faith,  and  I  am 
damned  by  unbelief !  Wretch  that  I  am,  why  did  I  not 
give  glory  to  the  redeeming  blood  of  Jesus  ?  Why  did  I 
not  humbly  cast  my  soul  at  His  feet  for  mercy  ?  Why  did 
I  judge  of  His  ability  to  save  me,  by  the  voice  of  my 
shallow  reason  ?'  This  will  tear  the  Impenitent, — that 
they  missed  mercy  and  glory,  and  obtained  everlasting 
condemnation  through  their  unbelief.  They  were  damned 
for  forsaking  what  they  had  a  sort  of  property  in, — for 
forsaking  their  '  own  mercies !' 

"  Thus  much  for  the  Reasons.  I  conclude  with  a  word 
of  Application.  All  this  shews  us  how  to  make  a  right 
judgment  of  the  heart  of  Christ ;  and  also  of  the  heart  of 
Him  who  sent  him.  There  is  nothing  more  common,  to 
men  that  are  awake  in  their  souls,  than  wrong  thoughts  of 
God,  which  pinch  and  pen  up  his  mercy  to  scanty  and 
beggarly  conclusions  and  rigid  legal  conditions ;  supposing 
it  a  rude  intrenching  upon  his  Majesty  to  come  ourselves, 
or  to  invite  others,  until  we  have  scraped,  and  rubbed,  and 
washed  ourselves  somewhat  orderly  and  handsome  in  His 
sight.       Such  never   knew   what    *  Begin   at   Jerusalem,' 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  331 

meant.  Such,  in  their  hearts,  compare  the  Father  and  the 
Son  to  niggardly  rich  men,  whose  money  comes  from  them 
like  drops  of  blood.  Judge,  then,  the  sufficiency  of  the 
merits  of  Christ.  It  is  not  a  little  that  will  save  great 
sinners.  It  is  upon  the  square  of  the  worthiness  of  the 
blood  of  Christ,  that  Grace  acts  in  pardoning. 

"  Wherefore,  Sinner,  be  ruled  by  me  in  this  matter : 
feign  not  thyself  another  man,  if  thou  hast  been  a  vile 
sinner.  Go  in  thy  own  colours  to  Jesus  Christ.  Put 
thyself  amongst  the  most  vile,  and  let  Him  alone  to  put 
thee  among  the  children.  Thou  art  as  it  were  called  by 
name  to  come  in  for  mercy.  Thou  man  of  Jerusalem 
hearken  to  thy  call !  Men  in  courts  of  Judicature  do  so, 
and  shoulder  through  the  crowd,  saying,  '  Pray  give  way, 
I  am  called  into  the  court.'  Why  then  standest  thou  still  ? 
*  Begin  at  Jerusalem,'  is  thy  call  and  authority  to  come. 
Wherefore,  up  Man,  and  slioulder  it !  Say,  '  Stand  aside 
Devil,  Christ  calls  me !  Stand  away  Unbelief,  Christ  calls 
me !  Stand  away  all  my  discouraging  apprehensions,  for 
my  Saviour  calls  me  to  him  to  receive  mercy !'  Men  will 
do  thus  in  courts  below.  Why  not  thus  approach  the 
Court  above  ?  Christ,  as  he  sits  on  the  Throne  of  Grace, 
pointeth  over  the  heads  of  thousands,  directly  to  such  a 
man,  and  says,  Come.  Wherefore,  since  He  says,  Come, 
— let  the  Angels  make  a  lane^  and  all  men  make  room, 
that  the  Jerusalem  sinner  may  come  to  Christ  for  mercy !" 
Thus  Bunyan  preached  Grace.  To  Law  also,  he  did  equal 
justice,  as  we  shall  see  in  his  Moral  Philosophy. 


332  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


BUNYAN  S    THUNDERBOLTS. 


So  much  of  Bunyan's  ministerial  life  was  spent  in  prison, 
and  he  is  so  much  a  Barnabas  in  the  Works  which  are  well 
known  to  the  public,  that  he  is  seldom  thought  of  as  a 
Boanerg-es.  He  was,  however,  *'  a  son  of  thunder,"  at  his 
outset  in  the  ministry  ;  and,  to  the  last,  often  shook  and 
enshrined  this  world  with  the  thunders  and  lightnings  of 
the  next  world.  This  part  of  his  work  he  fulfilled  with 
what  he  calls,  "  great  sense  ;"  meaning  a  deep  sense  of  the 
solemnity  of  eternal  things.  One  who  knew  him  well, 
and  who  wrote  an  elegy  on  his  death,  says  of  him, 

"  When  for  conviction,  on  the  Law  he  fell, 
You'd  think  you  heard  the  Damned's  groans  in  hell; 
And  then,  almost  at  every  word  he  spake. 
Men's  lips  would  quiver,  and  their  hearts  would  ache !" 

Works,  p.  1476. 

He  himself  also  sang  the  power  of  his  awful  appeals,  when 
he  reviewed  it  in  prison. 

"  And  now  those  very  hearts  that  then. 
Were  foes  unto  the  Lord, 
Embrace  his  Christ  and  Truth,  like  men, 
Conquered  by  His  sword, 
I  hear  them  sigh,  and  groan,  and  cry 
For  grace,  to  God  above. 
They  loathe  their  sin,  and  to  it  die  : 
Tis  Holiness  they  love." 

Prison  Thoughts. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  333 

No  wonder   he  said  indignantly  of  his  Persecutors,  when 
they  stopped  his  preaching, 

"  This  was  the  work  I  was  about 
When  hands  on  me  were  laid ; 
'Twas  this  from  which  they  plucked  me  out, 
And  vilely  to  me  said, 
You  Heretic,  Deceiver,  come, 
To  prison  you  must  go  ! 
You  preach  abroad,  and  keep  not  home  ; 
You  are  the  Church's  foe." 

Prison  Thoughts. 

Warning  men  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come,  was  not 
common  in  the  Restoration  church  then.  It  warned  them 
more  against  the  Conventicle,  than  against  Hell.  This 
was  one  reason  why  Bunyan  wielded  "  the  terrors  of  the 
Lord"  so  frequently  in  his  preaching.  He  made  the 
Priests  as  well  as  the  people  tremble,  along  the  whole  line 
of  his  Itineracies  :  for  it  was  no  uncommon  thing  with 
him  to  ask  publicly,  from  town  to  town,  and  from  village 
to  village, — "  How  many  poor  souls  hath  Bonner  to 
answer  for,  think  you  ?  How  many  souls  have  blind 
Priests  been  the  means  of  destroying,  by  preaching  thus 
for  filthy  lucre's  sake,  what  was  no  better  for  the  soul 
than  rats-bane  for  the  body  ?  Many  of  them,  it  is  to  be 
feared,  will  have  whole  Towns  to  answer  for — yea,  whole 
Cities  to  answer  for !  Ah,  Friend,  I  tell  thee,  thou  hast 
taken  in  hand  to  preach — thou  knowest  not  what.  Will  it 
not  grieve  thee  to  see  thy  whole  Parish  come  bellowing 
after  thee  to  Hell,  crying  out, — '  This  we  may  thank  thee 
for !  Thou  wast  afraid  to  tell  us  of  our  sins,  lest  we 
should  not  put  oneat  enough  into  thy  mouth.  O,  cursed 
Wretch,  that  ever  thou  shouldst  beguile  us  thus, — deceive 
us  thus, — flatter  us  thus !  We  would  have  gone  out  to 
hear  the  Word  abroad,  but  that  thou  didst  reprove  us,  and 
tell  us  that  (such  preaching)  was  deceivable  doctrine. 
Blind  Guide  that  thou  wert,  thou  wast  not  contented  to 
fall  into   the  ditch  thvself,   but  hast   led   us  thither  with 


334 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


thee !'  Look  to  thyself,  I  say,  lest  (like  Dives)  thou  cry 
when  it  is  too  late,  *  Send  Lazarus  to  my  Congregation, 
whom  I  beg-uiled  through  my  folly.  Send  him  to  the 
Town  where  I  preached  last,  lest  I  be  the  cause  of  their 
damnation.  O  send  him — and  let  him  tell  them,  and 
testify  unto  them,  lest  they  also  come  to  this  place  of 
torment.' "—  Works,  p.  2060. 

This  was  one  of  the  thunder-claps  which  Bunyan  made 
to  peal  round  all  the  district  between  Cambridge  and 
Oxford.  Who  then  can  wonder,  that  time-serving  Priests 
both  dreaded  and  hated  him  ?  Such  an  attack  would 
madden  such  Priests  still,  whether  out  of  the  Church  or 
in  it.  And  there  are  such  Priests  both  in  it,  and  out  of  it ! 
Can  it  be  literally  true,  that  Wilberforce  advised  a  friend 
of  his  to  keep  to  the  Church,  although  the  Gospel  was 
not  preached  by  the  Clergyman  ;  as  a  safer  measure  than 
keeping  to  the  Gospel  in  a  Chapel  ?  That  the  Puseyite 
and  Melvill  School  should  thus  outrage  common  sense 
and  christian  decency,  is  not  surprising :  but  that  Wilber- 
force preferred  the  Church  to  the  Gospel  is  incredible  I 

It  was  not  against  worldly  priests  only,  that  Bunyan 
launched  his  thunder-bolts.  He  spared  no  impeder  of  the 
Gospel.  Landlords  as  well  as  church-lords  threw  hinder- 
ances  in  the  way  of  Bunyan,  and  of  such  Evangelists  ;  and 
he  arraigned  them  with  equal  publicity  and  point.  "  O, 
what  red-lines"  he  exclaims,  "  there  will  be  against  those 
rich  ungodly  Landlords,  who  so  kept  under  their  poor 
Tenants,  that  they  dare  not  go  out  to  hear  the  Word,  for 
fear  their  rent  should  be  raised,  or  they  turned  out  of  their 
houses.  What  sayest  thou,  Landlord  ;  will  it  not  cut  thy 
souly  when  thou  shalt  see  that  thou  couldst  not  be  content 
to  miss  of  Heaven  thyself,  but  thou  must  labour  to  hinder 
others  also  ?  Will  it  not  give  thee  an  eternal  wound  in 
thy  heart,  both  at  death  and  judgment,  to  be  accused  of 
the  ruin  of  thy  neighbour's  soul — thy  servant's  soul — thy 
wife's  soul,  together  with  the  ruin  of  thine  own  ?     Think 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  335 

on  this — ye  drunken,  proud,  rich  and  scornful  Landlords  I 
Think  on  this — mad-brained  and  blasphemous  Husbands, 
if  ye  would  not  cry,  if  ye  would  not  howl,  if  you  would 
not  bear  the  burden  of  the  ruin  of  others  for  ever  !* 

Bunyan  did  not  spare  Tenants,  Servants,  nor  Wives, 
when  he  remonstrated  thus  with  their  Masters.  He 
ministered  as  little  to  the  passions  of  the  moh,  as  to  the 
pride  of  the  Hierarchy,  or  the  tyranny  of  the  Squirarchy. 
"  Many  stand  in  so  much  dread  of  men,  and  do  so  highly 
esteem  their  favour,"  he  says,  '*  that  they  will  rather 
venture  their  souls  in  the  hands  of  the  devil,  with  tJieir 
favour,  than  fly  to  Jesus  Christ  (without  it).  Nay,  though 
they  be  convinced  that  the  way  is  God's  way,  yet  they  turn 
their  ears  from  the  truth  ;  and  all,  because  they  will  not 
lose  the  favour  of  an  opposite  neighbour.  '  O,  I  dare  not, 
for  Master — my  Landlord.  I  shall  lose  his  favour ;  his 
house  of  work  ;  and  so  decay  my  calling.*  '  O,'  saith 
another,  '  I  would  willingly  go  the  right  way,  but  for  my 
Father :  he  chides,  and  tells  me  he  will  not  stand  my  friend 
when  I  come  to  want ; — I  shall  never  enjoy  a  pennyworth 
of  his  goods  ; — he  will  disinherit  me.'  *  And  I  dare  not, 
for  my  Husband  ;  for  he  will  be  a-railing,  and  tell  me  he 
will  beat  me,  and  turn  me  out  of  doors,  or  cut  off  my  legs.' 
But  I  tell  you — if  any  of  these  things,  or  any  other  things, 
keep  thee  from  seeking  Christ  in  his  ways,  they  will  make 
Him  cut  off  thy  soul,  because  thou  didst  trust  man  rather 
than  God.  Thou  shalt  be  tormented  as  many  years  as 
there  are  stars  in  the  firmament,  or  sands  on  the  sea- 
shore ;  and  besides  all  this,  thou  must  abide  it  for  ever  I" 
—  Wwksy  p.  2076. 

Bunyan's  appeals  to  Transgressors  are  often  as  original 
as  they  are  terrific.  "  Consider  thus  with  thyself:  would 
I  have  all — every  one  of  my  sins, — to  come  in  against 
me,  to  inflame  the  justice  of  God  against  me?  Would 
I  like  to  be  bound  up  in  them,  as  the  Three  Chil- 
dren  in   their  clothes,    and   then  cast  as  really  into  the 


336  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

fiery  furnace  of  the  wrath  of  Almig-hty  God,  as  they 
were  into  Nebuchadnezzar's  fiery  furnace  ?  Would  I  like 
to  have  all  and  every  one  of  the  Ten  Commandments 
discharge  themselves  against  my  soul ;  the  First  saying-, 
*  damn  him  ;'  the  Second,  '  damn  him  ;  for  he  hath  broken 
me.'  This  would  be  more  terrible  than  if  thou  shouldst 
have  ten  of  the  biggest  pieces  of  Ordinance  in  England 
thunder — thunder — thmider  against  thy  body,  one  after 
another.  This  would  not  be  comparable  to  the  rejiorts  that 
the  Law  will  give  against  thy  soul  for  ever.  Mark  \  it  is 
for  ever,  for  ever !  All  thy  sins  will  be  clapt  on  thy 
Conscience  at  one  time,  as  if  one  should  clap  a  red-hot 
iron  to  thy  breast,  to  continue  there  to  all  eternity." — 
P.  2040,  ^b. 

Some  of  Bunyan's  poetry  on  this  subject  rises  to  an 
awful  sublimity,  which  even  his  rhyme  cannot  spoil. 
Speaking  of  the  Lost  he  says, 

"  So  that,  whatever  they  do  knoAv, 
Or  see,  or  think,  or  feel, 
'  For  ever,'  still  doth  strike  them  through, 
As  with  a  bar  of  steel ! 
'  For  ever  shineth  in  the  Fire, 
'  Ever,  is  on  the  Chains. 
'Tis  also  in  the  pit  of  Ire, 
And  tastes  in  all  their  pains ! 
O,  Ever,  Ever,  this  will  drown 
Them  quite,  and  make  them  cry, 
'  We  never  shall  get  o'er  thy  bound, 
Thou  GREAT  Eternity  !' 
Yea,  when  they  have,  time  out  of  mind, 
Been  in  this  case  so  ill, 
For  ever.  Ever,  is  behind, 
Yet  for  them  to  fulfil." 

Oyie  Thing  Needful,  fol.  ed.  2  vol.  p.  849. 

False  maxims,  however  popular,  could  neither  dupe  nor 
silence  Bunyan.  He  denounced,  wherever  he  went,  the 
favourite  phrase  "  dying  like  a  lamb,"  whenever  it  was 
applied  to  the  death  of  ungodly  or  inconsistent  men.     "  A 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  337 

sinful  life  with  a  quiet  death  annexed  to  it,  is,"  he  says, 
*'  the  ready,  the  open,  the  common  highway  to  Hell. 
There  is  no  surer  sign  of  damnation,  than  for  a  man  to 
die  quietly  after  a  sinful  life.  I  do  not  say  that  all  wicked 
men,  who  die  molested  at  their  death  with  a  sense  of  sin 
and  fears  of  hell,  do,  therefore,  go  to  Heaven.  Some 
are  made  to  see ;  not  converted  by  seeing ;  and  left  to 
despair,  that  they  may  go  roaring  out  of  this  world  to  their 
*  own  place.'  But  I  do  say,  there  is  no  surer  sign  of  a 
man's  damnation  than  to  die  with  his  eyes  shut,  or  with  a 
heart  that  cannot  repent.  I  have  seen  a  dog  or  a  sheep 
die  hardly.  Thus  may  wicked  men.  But  they  may 
die  like  a  chrisom-child  in  show,  and  yet  plunge  down 
among  the  flames.  This  child-like,  lamb-like  death,  makes 
some  think  that  all  is  well,  with  men  who  lived  like  devils 
incarnate.  But  it  is  a  great  judgment  upon  companions 
that  survive.  They  are  hardened  and  encouraged  to  go  on 
in  their  course,  by  seeing  (the  wicked)  die  as  chrisom- 
children."— TFor^*,  p.  949. 

There  is  nothing  more  graphic  in  the  Pilgrim's  Progress, 
than  the  following  picture  of  a  fruitless  professor.  "  God 
says,  *  Come  Death,  smite  me  this  barren  fig-tree.'  At 
this,  Death  comes  into  the  chamber  with  grim  looks,  and 
Hell  follows  him  to  the  bedside.  Both  stare  this  fruitless 
professor  in  the  face :  yea,  begin  to  lay  hands  upon  him ; 
one  smiting  him  with  head-ache,  heart-ache,  back-ache, 
shortness  of  breath,  fainting  qualms,  trembling  of  joints, 
stoppage  at  the  chest,  and  almost  all  the  symptoms  of  one 
past  recovery ;  the  other,  casting  sparks  of  fire  into  the 
mind  and  conscience.  Now  he  begins  to  cry,  '  Lord  spare 
me,  spare  me  !'  '  Nay,'  saith  God,  '  you  have  been  a 
provocation  to  me  these  three  years.  Take  him.  Death !' 
'  O,  good  Lord,'  saith  the  Sinner,  '  spare  me  but  this  one 
time,  and  I  will  be  better.'  '  Away,  away,  you  are  naught ! 
If  I  should  recover  you  again,  you  would  be  as  bad  as  you 
were  before.'     *  Good  Lord,  try  me  this  once  ;  let  me  up 

X   X 


338  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

again,  this  once,  and  see  if  I  do  not  mend/     (All  this  tall 
is  while  Death  is  by.)    *  But  will  you  promise  me  to  mend? 

*  Yes,  indeed  Lord,  and  voiv  it  too !'     *  Well,'  saith  God, 

*  Death,  let  this  professor  alone  for  this  time.     He  hath 
vowed  to  amend  his  ways ;   and  vows  are  solemn  things 
It  may  be  he  will  be  afraid  to  break  his  vows.     Arise  off 
thy  bed !' 

*•  And  now  God  lays  down  his  axe.  At  this  the  poor 
creature  is  very  thankful,  and  calls  on  others  to  thank 
God.  One  would  now  think  him  a  neiv  creature  indeed. 
But  when  he  comes  down  from  his  bed,  and  ventures  into 
the  shop  or  yard, — and  there  sees  how  all  things  are  gone 
to  *  sixes  and  sevens,'  he  begins  to  have  second  thoughts ; 
and  says  to  his  folks,  '  What  have  you  all  been  doing  ? 
How  are  all  things  out  of  order  ?  I  am  behind  hand, — 
I  cannot  tell  what !  One  may  see  that  you  have  neither 
wisdom  nor  prudence  to  order  things,  if  a  man  be  but  a 
little  aside  !*  And  now  he  doubleth  his  diligence  after  the 
world  !  '  Alas,'  he  saith  : — *  but  all  must  not  be  lost.  We 
must  have  provident  care.*  And  thus  he  forgetteth  the 
sorrows  of  death,  and  the  vows  he  made  to  be  better." 

These  things  proving  ineff'ectual,  God  takes  hold  of  his 
axe  again,  and  sends  Death  to  a  wife,  to  a  child,  to  the 
cattle.     At  this,  the  poor  barren  professor  cries  out  again, 

*  Lord  I  have  sinned  ;  spare  me  once  more  !  O  take  not 
away  the  desire  of  my  eyes  ;  spare  my  children  ;  bless  my 
labour ;  and  I  will  mend  and  be  better.'    *  No,'  saith  God, 

*  thou  lied  to  me  last  time,  and  I  will  trust  thee  no 
longer :' — and  He  tumbleth  the  wife,  the  child,  and  the 
estate,  into  a  grave. 

"  On  this,  the  poor  creature,  like  Ahab,  walks  softly 
awhile.  Now,  he  renews  his  promises : — *  Lord  try  me 
this  one  time  more.  They  go  far  that  never  turn.  Take 
off  thy  hand  and  see !'  Well,  God  sets  down  his  axe  again. 
But  still,  there  is  no  fruit.  Now  then  the  axe  begins  to 
be  heaved  higher  !     Yet,  before  He  strike  the  stroke,  he 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


339 


will  try  one  more  way  at  last ;  and  if  that  fail, — down  goes 
the  fig-tree ! 

*'  This  last  way  is,  to  tug  and  strive  with  this  professor 
by  His  Spirit.  But  now,  the  mischief  is,  there  is  tugging 
and  striving  on  both  sides.  The  Spirit  convinceth ;  but  the 
man  turns  a  deaf  ear.  '  Receive  my  instruction  and  live/ 
He  says  ;  but  the  man  pulls  away  his  shoulder.  The  Spirit 
parlieth  again,  and  urgeth  new  reasons.  '  No,*  saith  the 
sinner,  '  I  have  loved  strangers,  and  after  them  I  will  go  !* 
At  \\\\%—God^s  fury  cometh  up  into  his  face!  Now, 
He  comes  out  his  holy  place,  and  is  terrible.  Now,  He 
sweareth  in  his  wrath  that  they  shall  not  enter  into  his 
rest.  '  Cut  it  down,  why  cumbereth  it  the  ground !' " — 
P.  1142. 

Well  might  Bunyan's  clerical  biographer  say  of  him, 
"  He  laid  open  before  men  the  saving  promises  and 
dreadful  denunciations  of  the  Scripture,  and  sent  it  so 
home,  that  it  not  only  created  joy  but  trembling  ;  each  one 
on  their  departure  confessing,  that  their  hearts  were  moved 
at  his  words."  He  adds,  "  I  need  not  tell  you  that  he  pre- 
tended not  to  be  orthodox,  as  to  the  Church  Established 
by  the  Law  of  the  nation :  but  all  that  knew  him  will 
bear  witness,  that  his  doctrine  was  nothing  varying  from 
the  express  Word  of  God,  though  not  complying  in  some 
things  with  the  national  Church,  in  manner  and  forms  of 
worship." — Life,  p.  22. 

This  was  the  Watchman  on  the  walls  of  Zion,  whose 
trumpet  was  silenced,  just  as  it  had  begun  to  alarm  the 
men  and  women  who  were  "  at  ease  in  Zion."  It  is  im- 
possible to  tell,  or  to  calculate,  the  consequences  of  the 
check  thus  given  to  the  progress  of  even  moral  reformation 
in  Bedfordshire,  by  silencing  John  Bunyan.  Such  a 
ministry,  in  a  county  which  had  been  highly  republican 
and  profane,  was  worth  more  to  the  cause  of  good  order 
and  virtue,  than  all  the  canon-law  that  could  be  preached 
or  enforced  in  it. 


340 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


Can  any  man  wonder  now, — that  John  Bunyan  would 
not  agree  to  any  proposals  for  giving-  up  his  ministry? 
The  man  who  knew  that  he  could  preach  thus,  must  have 
regarded  with  more  than  supreme  scorn  all  law  and  logic 
which  called  upon  him  to  desist.  He  must  have  pitied  as 
well  as  despised  the  men,  who  could  call  in  question  his 
right  or  his  fitness  to  warn  and  woo  sinners  to  flee  from 
the  wrath  to  come.  For,  what  could  they  shew  as 
credentials  of  having  received  "  the  Holy  Ghost,"  that 
deserved  more  credit  or  deference  than  his  aptness  to 
teach,  and  his  power  of  persuasion,  and  his  burning  zeal 
to  win  souls?  If  these  high  attributes,  and  holy  aspira- 
tions, be  not  proofs  of  a  Divine  Call  to  the  ministry, — 
Alas,  for  the  weight  of  canonical  proofs !  I  do  not  think 
lightly  of  education  or  order.  I  revere  them  as,  in 
general,  essential  to  the  efficiency  of  a  permanent  ministry. 
But  they  are  ill  applied,  and  worse  advocated,  when  they 
call  in  question  the  right  of  holy  men  of  talent,  to  preach 
the  gospel.  No  minister,  of  any  Church,  can  prove  his 
own  right  to  teach,  from  the  Bible,  who  disputes  Bunyan's 
right,  or  that  of  any  other  man  who  has  Bunyan's  spirit. 
I  say,  his  spirit:  for  if  his  talents  were  necessary,  no 
Church  could  command  a  supply  of  them. 

It  is  delightful  to  observe  how  Providence  is  now 
placing  the  question  of  Holy  Orders.  The  Spirit  of  God 
is  blessing  alike  the  faithful  Ministers  of  all  Protestant 
Churches ;  and  leaving  the  unfaithful  of  them  all,  to  stand 
unmarked  by  any  token  of  the  Divine  Presence. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


341 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

bunyan's  anecdotes. 

It  will  be  readily  believed,  from  the  few  specimens  of 
Bunyan's  vein  already  given,  that  his  preaching  had  a  pe- 
culiar charm  for  the  poor.  It  was  electrical  amongst  them, 
as  well  as  edifying  to  the  intelligent.  One  reason  why 
"  the  common  people  heard  him  gladly,"  was,  that  he  often 
re-pointed  his  most  pointed  warnings  and  admonitions  with 
striking  Anecdotes  which,  if  not  always  in  the  best  taste, 
were  well  told,  and  told  for  a  good  purpose.  I  introduce 
them,  however,  not  for  their  own  sake,  nor  chiefly  because 
they  are  Bunyan's ;  but  because  they  throw  some  light 
upon  his  times  and  contemporaries,  as  well  as  illustrate  his 
own  graphic  power.  And  we  need  glimpses  of  the  kind 
they  give  into  the  private  society  of  these  times.  There 
are  so  many  Actors  upon  the  stage  of  the  Restoration, 
that  we  almost  forget  the  audience  before  which  they 
played  their  part :  and  although  we  feel  that  their  in- 
fluence could  not  have  been  good,  we  do  not  know  how- 
bad  it  was,  until  we  follow  some  of  the  tools,  dupes  and 
imitators,  of  the  Court  party,  into  private  life,  public- 
houses,  and  country  fairs.  There,  we  see  how  truly  the 
Throne  was  reflected  in  the  bench  of  the  ale-houses,  and 
the  Court  at  the  may-pole ;  the  low  vulgar,  rivalling  the 
high  in  bigotry  and  baseness. 

Bunyan's  anecdotes  of  his  times  and  contemporaries,  are 
neither   few   nor    apocryphal.       They  were    written   and 


342  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

published  by  himself,  although  hitherto  overlooked  by  his 
biog-raphers.  This  oversight  is  the  more  remarkable, 
because  the  paucity  of  their  materials  for  his  Life  might 
well  have  sent  them  to  search  all  his  pages.  That  task, 
however,  has  been  left  for  me ;  and  now  that  it  is  per- 
formed, I  feel  myself  amply  rewarded  for  my  labour. 
Even  the  labour  itself  was  but  light,  when  I  discovered 
that  Badman  was  not  altogether  an  allegorical  person,  like 
most  of  the  characters  in  the  Holy  War.  That  discovery 
turned  Bunyan  into  an  Annalist  at  once :  for  all  his  illus- 
trations of  Badman's  history,  are  anecdotes  of  persons 
whom  he  had  known. 

It  was  no  ordinary  fortitude  or  fidelity,  on  his  part,  to 
publish  these  anecdotes  of  well  known  persons,  whatever 
date  be  assigned  to  the  publication  of  the  first  edition  of 
"  The  Life  and  Death  of  Mr.  Badman."  Bunyan  himself 
felt  that  he  was  daring  not  a  little,  by  this  exposure. 
Hence  he  says  in  the  Preface,  "  I  know  it  is  ill  puddling 
in  the  cockatrice's  den,  and  they  run  hazards  who  hunt  the 
wild  boar.  But  I  have  adventured  to  play  at  this  tune  on 
the  hole  of  the  Asps.  If  they  bite,  they  bite  :  if  they  sting, 
they  sting.  I  have  spoken  what  I  have  spoken  :  and  now, 
come  on  me  what  will!  I  know  the  better  end  of  the 
staff  is  mine,  whether  Mr.  Badman's  friends  rage  or  laugh 
at  what  I  have  writ.  My  object  is  to  stop  a  hellish  course 
of  life,  and  save  a  soul  from  death." 

Agreeably  to  this  design,  Bunyan  records ^r^#  (as  might 
be  expected),  some  of  the  remarkable  judgments  of  God 
against  swearers,  which  had  occurred  in  his  own  time. 
"  One  was,"  he  says,  "  that  dreadful  judgment  of  God  upon 
one  N.  P.,  at  Wimbledon  in  Surrey,  who  after  a  horrible 
fit  of  swearing,  and  cursing  at  some  persons  that  did  not 
please  him,  suddenly  fell  sick,  and  in  a  little  time  died 
raving,  cursing  and  swearing."  What  must  Bunyan  have 
felt,  both  when  this  fact  came  to  his  knowledge,  and  when 
he  wrote  it  ?     What  mingled  wonder  and  gratitude  must 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  343 

have  thrilled  his  spirit,  when  he  remembered  how  often  he 
had  been  spared,  whilst  a  swearer  and  blasphemer ! 

With  not  less  emotion  would  he  record  the  following" 
judgment ;  "  the  dreadful  story  of  Dorothy  Mately  of 
Ashover,  in  the  county  of  Derby." — *'  This  Dorothy  was 
noted  by  the  people  of  the  town,  as  a  g-reat  swearer,  and 
curser,  and  liar,  and  thief.  The  labour  she  usually  did, 
was  to  wash  the  rubbish  that  came  forth  of  the  Lead 
Mines,  and  there  to  get  sparks  of  lead-ore.  And  her 
usual  way  of  asserting  things  was  with  these  kind  of  impre- 
cations,— I  would  I  might  sink  into  the  earth  if  it  be  not 
so ;  or,  I  would  God  would  make  the  earth  open  and 
swallow  me  up.  Now  upon  the  23d  of  March,  1660,  this 
Dorothy  was  washing-  ore  upon  the  top  of  a  steep  hill, 
about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  Ashover,  and  was  there 
taxed  by  a  lad  for  taking  two  single  pence  out  of  his 
pocket.  But  she  violently  denied  it ;  wishing"  that  the 
ground  might  swallow  her  up  if  she  had  them.  She  also 
used  the  same  wicked  words  on  several  other  occasions 
that  day.  Now  one  George  Hodgkinson,  a  man  of  good 
report  there,  came  accidentally  by  where  Dorothy  was, 
and  stood  still  to  talk  with  her,  as  she  was  washing  her  ore. 
There  stood  also  a  little  child  by  her  tub  side,  and  another 
at  a  distance  calling  aloud  to  her  to  come  away.  Where- 
fore, the  said  George  took  the  girl  by  the  hand  to  lead  her 
away  to  her  that  called  her.  But,  behold,  they  had  not 
gone  above  ten  yards  from  Dorothy,  but  they  heard  her 
calling  out  for  help.  So  looking  back,  he  saw  the  woman, 
and  her  tub  and  sieve,  twisting  round,  and  sinking  into  the 
ground.  Then  said  the  man.  Pray  to  God  to  pardon  thy 
sin  ;  for  thou  art  never  like  to  be  seen  alive  any  longer. 
So  she  and  her  tub  twirled  round  and  round,  till  they  sunk 
about  three  yards  into  the  earth  ;  and  then,  for  a  while 
staid.  Then,  she  called  for  help  again,  thinking,  as  she 
said,  she  should  stay  there.  Now  the  man,  though  greatly 
amazed,  did  begin  to  think  which  way  to  help  her.     But, 


344  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

immediately,  a  great  stone,  which  appeared  in  the  earth, 
fell  upon  her  head,  and  broke  her  skull,  and  then  the  earth 
fell  in  and  covered  her.  She  was  afterwards  dig-g-ed  up, 
and  found  about  four  yards  within  g-round,  with  the  boy's 
two  single  pence  in  her  pocket :  but  her  tub  and  sieve 
could  not  be  found." 

This  story  is  so  circumstantial,  that  Bunyan  seems  to 
have  had  it  from  Hodgkinson's  own  lips.  He  evidently 
believed  "  the  relater '*  too.  This  was  easy  for  him  to  do. 
And,  why  should  it  be  difficult  for  any  one?  That  was  an 
age  when  such  warnings  were  loudly  called  for.  Nothing-, 
perhaps,  but  signal  judgments  could  have  checked  the 
profane  then.  This  one  fell,  indeed,  upon  an  obscure 
woman :  but  it  fell  in  Bunyan's  time  ;  and  he  soon  gave  it 
a  publicity  which  made  what  was  "  done  in  a  corner,"  tell 
over  England,  as  the  fate  of  Korah  and  his  company  did  in 
the  wilderness :  for  the  Life  of  Badman  followed  in  the 
wake  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress.  He  intended  this.  In 
the  Preface  he  says,  "  As  I  was  considering  with  myself, 
what  I  had  written  concerning  the  progress  of  the  Pilgrim 
from  this  world  to  glory  ;  and  how  it  had  been  acceptable 
to  many  in  this  nation,  it  came  again  into  my  mind  to 
write,  of  the  life  and  death  of  the  Ungodly,  and  of  their 
travel  from  this  world  to  hell."  It  had  thus,  probably,  a 
great  circulation,  amongst  all  ranks ;  and  perhaps  found  its 
way,  as  the  Pilgrim  certainly  did,  into  the  hands  of  the 
court  of  Charles  II.  ;  where,  of  all  places,  it  was  most 
needed  I  The  King's  copy  of  the  Pilgrim  is  in  the  British 
Museum. 

Another  class  of  judgments  which  Bunyan  marked  and 
reported  with  deep  interest,  were  those  which  befel  In- 
formers, who  had  betrayed  the  secret  meetings  of  the 
persecuted  Dissenters.  He  says,  he  knew  so  many  in- 
stances of  the  judgments  of  God  overtaking  these  spies 
and  accusers,  as  filled  him  with  "  astonishment  and  won- 
der."    He  gives  the  initials y  as  well  as  the  history  of  one 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  345 

of  these  wretches,  who  practised  about  Bedford  ;  and  marks 
the  anecdote  with  a  cross,  to  shew  that  the  event  fell  under 
his  own  observation  ;  a  proof  of  the  fearlessness  with  which 
he  "  played  on  the  hole  of  the  Asps,"  that  their  prey 
might  escape,  and  they  themselves  take  warning-.  "  In  our 
Town,"  he  says,  "  there  was  one  W.  S.,  a  man  of  a  very 
wicked  life ;  and  he,  when  there  seemed  to  be  countenance 
given  to  it,  would  needs  turn  Informer.  Well,  so  he 
did ;  and  was  as  diligent  in  his  business  as  most  of  them 
could  be.  He  would  watch  of  nights, — climb  trees,— 
and  range  the  woods  of  days,  if  possible  to  find  out  the 
Meeters  :  for  then  they  were  forced  to  meet  in  the 
fields." 

(The  accompanying  Illustration  is  a  faithful  copy  of  an 
old  Print,  by  Wooding ;  and  only  a  too  faithful  picture  of 
the  perils  of  good  men,  in  these  bad  times.  I  delight  to 
preserve  it,  because  it  reveals  to  the  eye  both  the  aspect 
and  spirit  of  the  Non.  Cons,  and  Covenanters  of  these 
times.  Such  were  the  men,  in  looks,  and  in  rank  of  life, 
whom  the  Stuarts,  these  clog-stars  of  the  Church,  drove 
into  the  wilderness,  and  hunted  in  the  mountains,  dens  and 
caves  of  the  earth.  Such  were  the  men,  whom  Scott  tried 
to  caricature,  in  Old  Mortality :  but  his  genius  triumphed 
over  his  will.  It  could  not  resist  their  fascination,  whilst 
exaggerating  their  foibles.  They  started  into  such  majesty 
at  every  stroke  of  the  Phidias-Jiand  of  the  great  sculptor, 
that  he  was  compelled  to  worship  the  Memories  he  intended 
to  malign.  He  wondered,  forsooth ! — that  any  one  could 
have  suspected  him  of  injustice  to  the  Covenanters.  So 
modern  Players  and  Critics  wonder  how  any  one  could 
imagine,  that  Dr.  Squintum  and  Cantwell  were  ever  meant 
for  "  that  good  man,  Mr.  Whitefield."  The  fact  is,  Scott 
vi'as  more  under  the  spell  of  Dr.  Erskine,  his  father's 
minister,  than  he  was  aware  of,  or  than  Lockhart  under- 
stood, when  the  Covenanters  cowed  his  spirit,  by  their 
ascendancy  over  his  heart.) 

Y  Y 


346  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

But  to  return  to  the  Informer :  "  He  would,"  says 
Bimyan,  "  curse  the  Meeters  bitterly,  and  swear  most 
fearfully  what  he  would  do  when  he  found  them.  Well ; 
after  he  had  gone  on,  like  a  Bedlam,  in  his  course  awhile, 
and  had  done  some  mischiefs  to  the  people,  he  was  stricken 
by  the  hand  of  God,  and  that  in  this  manner.  Although  he 
had  had  his  tongue  naturally  at  will ;  now,  he  was  taken  with 
a  faultering  in  his  speech,  and  could  not  for  weeks  together 
speak  otherwise  than  just  as  a  man  that  was  drunk.  Then 
he  was  taken  with  a  drawling  and  slabbering  at  his  mouth ; 
which  phlegm  would  sometimes  hang  at  his  mouth,  well 
nigh  half  way  down  to  the  ground.  Then  he  had  such  a 
weakness  in  the  hack-sinews  of  his  neck,  that  ofttimes  he 
could  not  look  up  before  him,  unless  he  clapt  his  hand 
upon  his  forehead,  and  held  up  his  head  that  way  by  the 
strength  of  his  hand.  After  this  his  speech  went  quite 
away,  and  he  could  speak  no  more  than  a  swine  or  a  bear. 
Therefore,  like  one  of  them,  he  would  grunt  and  make  an 
ugly  noise,  according  as  he  was  offended  or  pleased,  or 
would  have  any  thing  done. 

"  In  this  posture,  he  continued  for  the  space  of  half  a 
year  or  thereabouts ;  all  the  while,  otherwise,  well ;  and 
could  go  about  his  business :  save  once,  that  he  had  a  fall 
from  the  bell,  as  it  hangs  in  our  steeple ;  which  it  was  a 
wonder  it  did  not  kill  him.  But  after  that,  he  also  walked 
about  until  God  had  made  a  sufficient  spectacle  of  His 
judgment  for  his  sin ;  and  then  on  a  sudden,  he  was 
stricken  and  died  miserably :  and  so  there  was  an  end  of 
him  and  his  doings. 

"  I'll  tell  you  of  another.  About  four  miles  from  St. 
Neot's,  there  was  a  gentleman  had  a  man,  and  a  lusty 
young  man  he  was.  Well ;  an  Informer  he  was,  and  did 
much  distress  some  people  ;  and  had  perfected  his  infor- 
mations so  effectually  against  some,  that  there  was  nothing 
further  to  do,  but  for  the  Constables  to  make  distress  on 
the  people,  that  he  might  have  the  money  or  goods :  and. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  34? 

as  I  have  heard,  he  hastened  them  much  to  do  it.  Now 
while  he  was  in  the  heat  of  his  work,  as  he  stood  one  day 
by  the  fire-side,  he  had,  it  should  seem,  a  mind  to  a  soj)  in 
the  pan ;  for  the  spit  was  then  at  the  fire.  So  he  went  to 
make  one.  But,  behold  a  dog — some  say  his  favourite 
dog — took  distaste  at  something,  and  immediately  bit  his 
master  by  the  leg  :  the  which  bite,  notwithstanding  all  the 
means  that  was  used  to  cure  him,  turned  (as  was  said)  into 
a  gangrene.  However,  that  wound  was  his  death,  and 
that  a  dreadful  one  too  :  for  my  relator  said,  that  he  lay  in 
such  a  condition  by  this  bite,  that  his  fiesh  rotted  from  off 
him,  before  he  went  out  of  the  world." 

It  was  in  no  vindictive  spirit,  that  Bunyan  told  these 
anecdotes.  He  durst  neither  overlook  nor  conceal  them  ; 
but  he  took  no  pleasure  in  recording  them.  "  If  it  had 
been  the  will  of  God,"  he  says,  "  I  would,  that  neither  I 
nor  anybody  else,  could  tell  more  of  these  stories :  true 
stories,  that  are  neither  lie  nor  romance.  But  what 
need  I  instance  in  particular  persons^  when  the  judg- 
ment of  God  against  this  kind  of  people  was  made 
manifest,  I  think  I  may  say,  if  not  in  all,  yet  in  most 
of  the  counties  of  England,  where  such  poor  creatures 
were." 

It  is  only  too  easy  to  illustrate  and  verify  Bunyan's 
opinion,  in  this  matter.  God  did  make  examples,  where - 
ever  such  traitors  and  trepanners  "  wore  out  the  saints  of 
the  Most  High :"  and  what  God  does  in  retribution,  ought 
not  to  be  buried  in  oblivion.  I  know  that  it  is  now 
unpopular  to  revive  the  memory  of  such  facts.  I  feel  too, 
that  we  are  prone  to  call  the  fearful  end  of  an  enemy,  a 
judgment ;  and  the  same  end,  only  a  misfortune,  when  it 
befals  a  friend.  But  still,  it  is  equally  wrong  and  dan- 
gerous to  forget  the  signal  catastrophes,  by  which  the 
living  conviction  "  that  verily  there  is  a  God  who  judgeth," 
is  kept  up  in  the  public  mind.  I  have,  therefore,  felt  it 
to  be  an  imperative  duty   to  preserve   in   the  sketch   of 


348  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Bunyan's  Times,  some  of  the  most  remarkable  mstances  of 
Divine  retribution. 

Bunyan  was  also  an  attentive  observer,  and  occasionally 
a  frank  recorder,  of  the  Apostacies  from  godliness,  which 
occurred  in  his  neighbourhood.  He  mentions  two,  of 
which  he  says  expressly,  "  This  was  done  in  Bedford :  I 
knew  a  man  that  was  once,  as  I  thought,  hopefully 
awakened  about  his  condition.  Yea,  I  knew  two  that 
were  so  awakened.  But  in  (course  of)  time,  they  began 
to  draw  back,  and  to  incline  again  to  their  lusts.  Where- 
fore, God  gave  them  up  to  the  company  of  three  or  four 
men,  that  in  less  than  three  years  brought  them  roundly 
to  the  gallows,  where  they  were  hanged  like  dogs  because 
they  refused  to  live  like  honest  men." 

With  almost  equal  fidelity  to  time  and  place,  Bunyan 
ventured  to  give  the  following  account  of  an  Infidel : 
"  There  was  a  man  dwelt  about  twelve  miles  from  us,  that 
had  so  trained  himself  up  in  his  atheistical  notions,  that,  at 
last,  he  attempted  to  write  a  book  against  Jesus  Christ, 
and  against  the  divine  authority  of  the  Scriptures :  but  I 
think  it  was  not  published :  well ;  after  many  days,  God 
struck  him  with  sickness,  whereof  he  died.  So,  being  sick, 
and  musing  upon  his  former  doings,  the  book  he  had 
written  came  into  his  mind ;  and,  with  it,  such  a  sense  of 
his  evil  in  writing  it,  that  it  tore  his  conscience  as  a  lion 
would  tear  a  kid.  He  lay,  therefore,  upon  his  death-bed 
in  sad  case,  and  much  affliction  of  conscience.  Some  of 
mi/  friends  also  went  to  see  him  ;  and  as  they  were  in  his 
chamber  one  day,  he  hastily  called  for  pen,  ink,  and  paper ; 
which  when  it  was  given  him,  he  took  it,  and  writ  to  this 
purpose, — '  I  (such  a  one,  in  such  a  Town)  must  go  to 
hell-fire,  for  writing  a  book  against  Jesus  Christ,  and 
against  the  authority  of  the  holy  Scriptures.'  He  would 
also  have  leaped  out  of  the  window  of  his  house,  to  have 
killed  himself:  but  was  prevented  of  that.  So  he  died  in 
his  bed  ; — such  a  death  as  it  was.     It  will  be  well,  if  others 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


349 


take  warning  by  this  story.  The  story  is  as  true  as  it  is 
remarkable.  I  had  it  from  them  that  I  dare  believe,  who 
themselves  were  eye  and  ear  witnesses ;  and  also  caught 
him  in  their  arms,  and  saved  him,  when  he  would  have 
leaped  out  of  his  chamber-window,  to  have  destroyed 
himself." 

Bunyan    seems  to  have  had  not  a  few  opportunities, 
even  while  in  prison,  of  marking  both  the  power  and  the 
treachery  of  conscience.    One  story  on  this  subject  deserves 
to  be  known.      "  When  I  was  in  prison,"  he  says,  "  there 
came   a  woman   to   me,  that  was  under  a  great  deal  of 
trouble.     So  I  asked   her  (she  being  a  stranger  to   me), 
what  she  had  to  say  to  me.     She  said,  she  was  afraid  she 
should  be  damned.     I  asked  her  the  cause  of  those  fears. 
She  told  me,  that  she   had  sometime  since   lived  with  a 
shopkeeper  at  Wellingborough,  and  had  robbed  his  box  in 
the  shop,  several  times,  of  money,  to  the  value  of  more 
than  now  I  will  say.     *  And,  pray,*  says  she,  '  tell  me  what 
I   shall   do.*     I  told  her, — I  would  have  her  go  to  her 
Master,   and    make  him  satisfaction.     She   said,   she   was 
afraid.     I  asked   her.   Why  ?     She   said,   she   doubted  he 
would  hang  her.     I  told  her,  I  would  intercede  for  her 
life,  and  make  use  of  other  friends  too  to  do  the  like.    But 
she  told  me  she  durst  not  venture  that.     '  Well,'  said  I, 
*  shall  I  send  to  your  Master,  while   you   abide   out  of 
sight,  and  make  your  peace  with  him  before  he  sees  you  ?' 
And  with  that,  I  asked  her  Master's  name.     But  all  that 
she  said  in  answer  to  this  was, — '  Pray,  let  it  alone  till  I 
come  to  you  again.     So,  away  she  went,  and  neither  told 
me  her  Master's  name  nor  her  own.    This  was  about  ten  or 
twelve  years  since  ;  and  1  never  saw  her  again.    I  tell  you 
this  story,  for  this  cause,  to  confirm  your  fears,  that  such 
kind  of  servants,  too  many  there  be  :  and  that  God  makes 
them    sometimes    like    old   Todd,   to    betray  themselves, 
through  the  terrors  He  lays  upon  them.     I  could  tell  you 
of  another,  that  came  to  me  with  a  like  relation  concerning 


350  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

herself,  and  the  robbing"  of  her  Mistress :  but  at  this  time, 
let  this  suffice." 

The  story  of  old  Todd,  Bunyan  himself  tells  thus  : 
"  At  a  summer  Assizes  holden  at  Hartford,  while  the 
Judg-e  was  sitting  on  the  bench,  comes  this  old  Todd  into 
the  court,  clothed  in  a  green  suit,  with  his  leathern  girdle 
in  his  hand,  his  bosom  open,  and  all  dripping  of  sweat  as 
if  he  had  run  for  his  life.  And  being  come  in,  he  spake 
aloud  as  follows  :  '  My  Lord,'  said  he,  '  here  is  the  veriest 
rogue  that  breathes  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  I  have  been 
a  thief  from  a  child.  When  I  was  but  a  little  one,  I  gave 
myself  to  rob  orchards,  and  to  do  other  such  like  wicked 
things  ;  and  I  have  continued  a  thief  ever  since.  My 
Lord,  there  has  not  been  a  robbery  committed  these  many 
years,  within  so  many  miles  of  this  place,  but  I  have  either 
been  at  it,  or  privy  to  it. 

"  The  Judge  thought  the  fellow  was  mad :  but  after 
some  conference  with  some  of  the  Justices,  they  agreed  to 
indict  him.  And  so  they  did,  of  several  felonious  actions  : 
to  all  of  which  he  heartily  confessed  guilty ;  and  so  was 
hanged,  with  his  ivife  at  the  same  time. 

"  As  for  the  truth  of  this  story,"  says  Bunyan,  "  the 
relator  (whom  I  dare  believe)  told  me,  that  he  was  in  the 
court  at  the  same  time  himself,  and  stood  within  less  than 
two  yards  of  old  Todd,  when  he  heard  him  utter  the  words 
aloud." 

Bunyan  remembered  and  published  cases  of  this  kind, 
just  for  the  same  reason  as  he  marked  the  judgments  of 
God  on  blasphemers.  He  himself  had  begun  like  old 
Todd.  Hence,  he  says  in  his  Life,  "  had  not  a  miracle  of 
precious  grace  prevented,  I  had  not  only  perished  by  the 
stroke  of  Eternal  Justice,  but  had  also  laid  myself  open 
even  to  the  stroke  of  those  Laws,  which  bring  some  to 
disgrace  and  open  shame  before  the  face  of  the  world." 

Thus,  these  anecdotes,  although  they  concern  Bunyan's 
contemporaries,    disclose    his    own    spirit,    when,    at   the 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  351 

maturity  of  his  mind  and  piety,  he  reviewed  his  early  life. 
"  Remembering-  the  wormwood  and  the  gall,"  his  soul  had 
them  "  still  in  remembrance,  and  was  humbled  within"  him. 
He  "  possessed  the  iniquities  of  his  youth  "  to  the  last,  in 
the  sense  of  never  forgetting  them,  even  when  he  was  sure 
that  they  were  forgiven. 

Drunkenness  also,  although  a  vice  he  seems  never  to 
have  been  addicted  to,  was  yet  one  he  so  narrowly  escaped, 
that  he  kept  his  eye  very  closely  upon  the  consequences  of 
it  in  others,  and  fearlessly  published  the  facts.  "  I  knew," 
he  says,  "  one  who  dwelt  not  far  off  our  Town,  that  got 
a  wife,  as  Mr.  Badman  got  his  (by  hypocritical  canting), 
but  he  did  not  enjoy  her  long :  for  one  night  as  he  was 
riding  home  from  his  companions,  where  he  had  been  at  a 
neighbouring  town,  his  horse  threw  him  to  the  ground, 
where  he  was  found  dead  at  break  of  day,  frightfully  and 
lamentably  mangled  with  his  fall,  and  besmeared  with  his 
own  blood." 

Bunyan's  views  of  Intemperance  were,  as  might  be 
expected,  very  awful.  He  had  no  hope  of  "  an  old 
drunkard"  being  ever  reclaimed.  "  Tell  me,"  he  asks, 
"  when  did  you  see  an  old  drunkard  converted  ?  No,  no  ; 
such  a  one  will  sleep  till  he  dies,  though  he  sleeps  on  the 
top  of  a  mast.  So  that  if  a  man  have  any  respect  to  either 
credit,  health,  life,  or  salvation,  he  will  not  be  a  drunken 
man."  He  was,  however,  no  Tee-Totaller,  although 
emphatically,  and  even  rigidly,  a  temperate  man.  I  judge 
thus,  because  he  blames  Badman  for  not  offering  any 
refreshment  to  the  pious  men,  who  came  to  visit  him  on 
his  death-bed.  "  When  they  were  going,  he  would  scarce 
bid  them  drink,  or  say.  Thank  you  for  your  good  company, 
and  good  instruction." 

Bunyan  did  not  mean,  I  am  sure,  to  blame  Badman  for 
withholding  drink,  which  was  not  required  by  thirst  or 
fatigue.  He  meant  only,  that  the  common  courtesies  of  life 
were  not  shewn  to  godly  men,  although  they  had  come  on 


352  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

foot,  or  from  a  distance,  and  thus  needed  refreshment. 
In  this  matter,  he  distinguished  between  temperance  and 
total  abstinence,  as  he  did  between  a  Christmas-Pie  and 
Christmas. 

How  severely  and  successfully  he  could  expose  drunken- 
ness, the  following-  anecdote,  from  his  own  pen,  will  shew. 
*'  It  is,"  he  says,  "a  sivinish  vanity,  indeed  :  I  will  tell  you 
another  storj.  There  was  a  gentleman  that  had  a  drunken 
servant  to  be  his  groom ;  and  (he)  coming  home  one  night 
much  abused  with  Beer,  his  Master  saw  it.  Well  (quoth 
his  Master  within  himself),  I  will  let  thee  alone  to-night ; 
but  to-morrow  morning  I  will  convince  thee  thou  art 
worse  than  a  beast,  by  the  behaviour  of  my  horse.  So 
when  morning  was  come,  he  bids  his  man  go  and  water 
his  horse.  And  so  he  did :  but  coming  up  to  his  Master, 
he  commands  him  to  water  him  again.  So  the  fellow  rode 
into  the  water  a  second  time.  But  his  Master's  horse 
would  drink  no  more.  So  the  fellow  came  and  told  his 
Master.  Then  said  his  Master,  '  Thou  drunken  sot,  thou 
art  far  worse  than  my  horse.  He  will  drink  but  to  satisfy 
nature  ;  but  thou  wilt  drink  to  the  abuse  of  nature.  He 
will  drink  but  to  refresh  himself;  but  thou  to  thy  hurt 
and  damage.  He  will  drink,  that  he  may  be  more  service- 
able to  his  Master  ;  but  thou  till  thou  art  incapable  of 
serving  either  God  or  man.  O,  thou  Beast,  how  much 
art  thou  worse  than  the  horse  thou  ridest  on!'" 

This  story  is,  I  am  aware,  familiar,  in  a  vague  form. 
Bunyan's  version  of  it  is,  however,  worth  preserving ;  it 
smacks  so,  of  his  own  style.  "  His,"  as  Dr.  Southey 
well  says,  "  is  a  home-spun  style,  not  a  manufactured  one. 
It  is  a  clear  stream  of  current  English — the  vernacular 
of  his  age ;  sometimes  indeed  in  its  rusticity  and  coarse- 
ness, but  always  in  its  plainness  and  strength.  To  this 
natural  style,  Bunyan  is  in  some  degree  indebted  for 
his  general  popularity :  his  language  is  every  where  level 
to  the  most  ignorant  reader,  and  to  the  meanest  capacity; 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  353 

there  is  a  homely  reahty  about  it :  a  nursery  tale  is 
not  more  intelligible,  in  its  manner  of  narration,  to  a 
child." 

It  can  hardly  surprise  any  one,  that  Bunyan  was  not 
wiser  than  his  generation,  in  regard  to  old  stories  about 
the  devil.  He  gave  currency  to  some  of  these,  without  at 
all  questioning  their  truth,  when  they  happened  to  furnish 
warning  against  the  popular  vices  of  his  times.  It  is, 
however,  curious,  that  while  he  would  believe  almost  any- 
thing about  the  devil,  if  it  only  shewed  the  evil  or  the 
danger  of  sin,  he  was  very  cautious  in  giving  an  opinion 
upon  the  ministry  of  Angels.  Accordingly  when  he  was 
told  of  a  "  godly  old  Puritan,'*  whose  wife  heard,  as  he 
was  dying,  "  the  sweetest  music,"  "  like  melodious  notes 
of  angels,"  which  went  "  farther  and  farther  off  from  the 
house,"  as  the  spirit  departed,  Bunyan  said,  "  I  cannot 
say,  but  that  God  goes  out  of  his  ordinary  road  with  us 
poor  mortals  sometimes."  He  then  added,  that  Badman's 
wife  "  had  better  music  in  her  heart,"  when  she  was  dying, 
"  than  sounded  in  this  woman's  ears." 

Here  he  is  prudent :  but  in  the  very  next  breath,  he 
tells  old  Clarke's  most  astounding  story  of  the  Woman  of 
Oster,  in  Germany,  without  comment  or  query.  "  This 
woman,"  he  says,  "  used  in  her  cursing,  to  give  herself 
body  and  soul  to  the  devil.  Being  reproved  for  it,  she 
still  continued  the  same ;  till,  being  at  a  wedding-feast,  the 
devil  came  in  person,  and  carried  her  up  into  the  air,  with 
the  most  horrible  outcries  and  roarings.  In  that  sort,  he 
carried  her  round  about  the  town,  so  that  the  inhabitants 
were  ready  to  die  for  fear."  I  dare  not  quote  more  of 
the  scene  ;  except,  that  the  devil  threw  part  of  the  body 
upon  the  banqueting  table,  before  the  Mayor,  telling  his 
worship,  "  that  like  destruction  awaited  him,"  if  he  did  not 
"  amend  his  wicked  life."  This  is  very  unlike  the  devil : 
but  Bunyan  forgot  that,  in  his  anxiety  to  warn  swearers 
and   cursers.     Thus  his  very  credulity  arose   from  good 


354  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

motives.     Besides,  it  was  not  greater  than  that  of  more 
learned  men,  in  these  times. 

Another  vice  of  the  age,  which  he  lashed  severely,  was 
the  indelicate  dress  of  the  women,  who  imitated  the  court 
hevy  of  Charles  II.  "  I  once  talked  with  a  maid,  by  way 
of  reproof,"  he  says,  "  of  her  fond  and  gaudy  g-arments. 
But  she  told  me,  the  Tailor  wmild  make  it  so.  Alas,  poor 
proud  girl,  she  g-ave  the  order  to  the  Tailor  so  to  make  it. 
Many  make  parents,  husbands,  and  tailors,  the  blind  to 
others  :  but  their  naughty  hearts,  and  their  giving  way 
thereto, — that  is  the  original  cause  of  all  these  evils. 
Many  have  their  excuses  ready  :  but  these  will  be  but 
the  spider's  web,  when  the  thunder  of  the  word  of  the 
great  God  shall  rattle  from  heaven  against  them,  as  it 
will  at  death  and  judgment :  but  I  wish  it  might  do  it 
before." 

I  dare  not  quote  his  sketches  of  fashionable  dress.  Not, 
however,  that  they  are  extravagant  or  indelicate  ;  but  only 
too  graphic.  Bunyan's  tastes  were  chaste,  and  his  mind 
nobly  pure,  from  the  time  he  became  a  Christian.  Indeed 
before,  he  was  not  a  sensualist.  Who  could  keep  nearer 
to  truth,  or  farther  from  indelicacy,  than  he  does  in  the 
following  characteristic  stroke  ?  "I  wonder  what  it  was 
that,  of  old,  was  called  *  the  attire  of  a  harlot.'  Certainly, 
it  could  not  be  more  bewitching  and  tempting,  than  are 
the  garments  of  many  professors  this  day."  But  this 
subject  is  sufficiently  touched  by  others. 

It  was  not,  however,  vain  professors  only,  that  he  could 
shew  up  graphically.  He  pilloried  the  farmers'  wives  who 
"  made  a  prey  of  the  necessity  of  the  poor,"  as  well  as  the 
"  proud  dames  "  who  aped  the  court.  Cobbett,  with  all  his 
powers  of  description  and  exposure,  never  went  beyond  the 
following  sketch.  It  only  wants  namesy  in  order  to  be  a 
perfect  story.  Even  without  names,  it  is  all  alive,  and  in 
motion. — "  There  is  a  poor  body,  we  will  suppose,  so  many 
miles  from  the  market ;  and  this  man  wants  a  bushel  of 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  355 

grist,  a  pound  of  butter,  or  a  cheese,  for  himself,  his  wife, 
and  poor  children.  But  his  dwelling  is  so  far  from  the 
market,  that  if  he  goes  thither,  he  shall  lose  his  day's-work, 
which  will  be  eightpence  or  tenpence  damage  to  him  ;  and 
that  is  something  to  a  poor  man.  So  he  goeth  to  one  of 
his  Masters  or  Dames  for  what  he  wanteth,  and  asks  them 
to  help  him  with  such  a  thing.  Yes,  say  they,  you  may 
have  it :  but,  withal,  they  give  him  a  gripe  :  perhaps,  make 
him  pay  as  much  or  more  for  it  at  home,  as  they  can  get 
when  they  have  carried  it  five  miles  to  a  market ;  yea,  and 
that  too  for  the  refuse  of  their  commodity.  In  this  the 
women  are  especially  faulty,  in  the  sale  of  their  butter  and 
cheese.  But  above  all,  your  Hucksters  that  buy  up  the 
poor  man's  victuals  by  wholesale,  and  sell  it  to  him  again 
for  unreasonable  gains  by  retail,  and  as  we  call  it,  by  piece- 
niealf  they  are  got  into  a  way,  after  a  stringing  rate,  to 
play  their  game  upon  (the  poor)  by  extortion.  I  mean, 
such  who  buy  up  butter,  cheese,  eggs,  bacon,  by  wholesale, 
and  sell  it  again  (as  they  call  it)  by  twopenny- worths, 
penny-worths,  a  halfpenny-worth,  or  the  like,  to  the  poor, 
— all  the  week,  after  the  market  is  past.  These,  though  I 
would  not  condemn  them  all,  do,  many  of  them,  bite  and 
pinch  the  poor,  by  this  kind  of  evil  dealing.  Besides,  these 
are  Usurers.  Yea,  they  take  usury  for  victuals ;  which 
thing  the  Lord  hath  forbidden. 

"  Perhaps  some  will  find  fault,  for  my  meddling  thus, 
with  other  folks*  matters,  and  for  my  prying  thus  into  the 
secrets  of  their  iniquity.  But  to  such  I  would  say, — since 
such  actions  are  evil,  it  is  time  they  should  be  hissed  out 
of  the  world." — Works,  vol.  ii.  Even  Ebenezer  Elliot, 
the  Corn-Law  Rhymer,  could  not  wish  this  better  done. 
It  is  not  an  anecdote,  I  know ;  but  it  has  dramatic  power, 
of  the  highest  order.  This  may  be  accounted  for,  by 
Bunyan's  opportunities  of  seeing  the  markets,  whilst 
travelling  as  a  tinker.  There  was  also  a  regular  Cheese- 
fair  at  Elstow.      Camden's  Brit, 


356  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Bunyan  tells  a  remarkable  story  in  his  Life  of  Badman, 
concerning-  the  master  of  an  Ale-House,  whom  he  evidently 
knew  something-  of.  I  refer  to  it,  for  the  sake  of  some 
incidental  facts  which  throw  some  light  upon  his  times. 
The  Publican  had  a  half-witted  son,  whom  he  encouraged 
to  curse  him  for  the  amusement  of  his  guests,  when  they 
were  too  dull.  He  would  even  irritate  the  poor  idiot,  to 
consign  him  to  the  devil !  In  course  of  time,  fhe  wretched 
man  was  seized  with  a  disorder,  which  was  deemed  Satanic 
possession.  Something,  as  if  "  a  live  thing,"  moved  up  and 
down  in  his  body,  until  his  fits  came  on.  Then,  it  settled 
like  "  a  hard  lump  on  the  soft  part  of  his  chest,  and  so 
would  rend  and  tear  him,  and  make  him  roar.'*  This,  of 
course,  was  nothing  but  extreme  spasms.  It  was,  however, 
treated  as  possession.  "  There  was  one  Freeman — who  was 
more  than  an  ordinary  doctor — sent  for,  to  cast  out  this 
devil ; — and  I  was  there  when  he  attempted  to  do  it  ;'* 
says  Bunyan,  or  Bunyan's  friend. 

"  The  manner  was  this  :  they  had  the  possessed  man  into 
an  outer-room,  and  laid  him  on  his  belly  upon  a  form,  with 
his  head  hanging-  over  the  form's-end.  Then  they  bound 
him  down  thereto :  which  done,  they  set  a  pan  of  coals 
under  his  mouth,  and  put  something  therein  that  made  a 
great  smoke :  by  this  means  (as  it  was  said)  to  fetch  out 
the  devil.  There,  therefore,  they  kept  the  man  till  he  was 
almost  smothered  in  smoke :  but  no  devil  came  out  of  him. 
At  which  Freeman  was  somewhat  abashed,  the  man  greatly 
afflicted,  and  I  made  to  go  away  wondering  and  fearing-. 
In  a  little  time,  therefore,  that  which  possessed  the  man 
carried  him  out  of  the  world,  according  to  the  cursed 
wishes  of  his  son.  And  this  was  the  end  of  this  hellish 
mirth !" 

There  was  a  wiser  Doctor  in  Bedford,  than  Freeman. 
"  We  had  in  our  town,"  says  Bunyan,  "  a  little  girl  that 
loved  to  eat  the  heads  of  foul  tobacco-pipes ;  and  neither 
rod  nor  good  word  could  reclaim  her,  or  make  her  leave 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  357 

them.  So  her  father  takes  advice  of  a  Doctor,  to  wean 
her  from  them.  *  Take/  saith  the  Doctor,  *  a  great  many 
of  the  foulest  tobacco-pipe  heads  you  can  get,  and  boil 
them  in  milkt  and  make  a  posset  of  that  milk,  and  make 
your  daughter  drink  that  posset-drink  up.*  He  did  so, 
and  made  her  drink  it  up.  It  made  her  so  sicky  that  she 
could  never  abide  to  meddle  with  tobacco-pipe  heads  any 
more ;  and  so  she  was  cured  of  that  disease."  Bunyan 
used  to  tell  this  anecdote,  in  order  to  illustrate  the  fact, 
"  that  sin  may  be  made  an  affliction  as  bitter  as  wormwood 
and  gall ;"  and  to  enforce  the  warning,  "  Take  heed  ;  God 
will  make  thee  a  posset  so  bitter  to  thy  soul,  that  it  shall 
make  sin  loathsome  to  thee." —  Works^  p.  538.  This  girl 
was,  probably,  the  daughter  of  the  Pipe  Manufacturer, 
mentioned  in  the  Chapter,  "  Bunyan's  Church  Persecuted." 

I  add  only  two  more  Anecdotes,  illustrative  of  his  mode 
of  turning  trifles  to  account.  "  I  heard  a  story  from  a 
soldier,  who,  with  his  company,  had  laid  siege  against  a 
Fort, — that  so  long  as  the  Besieged  were  persuaded  their 
foes  would  shew  them  no  favour^  they  fought  like  mad- 
men :  but  when  they  saw  one  of  their  fellows  taken,  and 
received  to  favour,  they  all  came  tumbling  down  from 
their  fortress,  and  delivered  themselves  into  their  Enemy's 
hands.  And  I  am  persuaded  that,  did  sinners  believe  the 
grace  and  willingness  of  Christ's  heart  to  save,  as  the 
Word  imports,  they  would  come  tumbling  into  his  arms." 
—  Works,  p.  446. 

"  Once  being  at  an  honest  woman's  house,  I,  after  some 
pause,  asked  her  how  she  did  ?  She  said,  '  Very  badly.'  I 
asked  her,  if  she  was  sick  ?  She  answered,  *  No.'  *  What 
then,'  said  I,  *  are  any  of  your  children  ill  ?'  She  told  me, 
*  No.'  *  What,'  said  I,  '  is  your  husband  amiss,  or  do  you 
go  back  in  the  world?'  '  No,  no,'  said  she,  *  but  I  am 
afraid  I  shall  not  be  saved !'  She  then  broke  out  with  a 
heavy  heart,  saying,  *  Ah !  Goodman  Bunyan, — Christ  and 
a  pitcher  !     Had  I  Christ,  it  would  be  better  with  me  than 


358  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

I  think  it  is  now,  though  I  went  and  begged  my  bread 
with  a  pitcher !'  This  cry,  *  Christ  and  a  Pitcher,'  made  a 
melodious  noise  in  the  ears  of  the  very  angels.  The  hells 
of  heaven  ring,  and  Angels  shout  for  joy,  when  the  want 
and  worth  of  Christ "  are  thus  felt  and  confessed. —  Works, 
p.  526,  544. 

It  will  be  readily  seen  from  such  applications  of  familiar 
events,  that  Bunyan  was  an  attentive  observer  of  men  and 
things,  and  thus,  that  most  of  the  characters  in  his  Pilgrims 
were  copied  from  real  life.  This  has  been  suspected  in  his 
Holy  War  also ;  but  without  reason.  The  Leaders  in 
that  war  are  either  too  good  or  too  bad,  to  have  had  their 
originals  in  the  royal  or  the  parliamentary  army.  Besides, 
Bunyan  had  not  sufficient  access  to  any  of  them,  to  copy 
from  them.  He  may  have  found  some  of  the  new  Alder- 
men and  Burgesses  of  Mansoul  in  the  old  Corporation  of 
Bedford ;  but  his  Captains  and  Standard  Bearers,  are  all 
pure  abstractions,  or  embodied  passions. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  359 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

BUNYAN*S    JAILOR. 
1661. 

BuNYAN,  like  Joseph  in  Egypt,  found  a  friend  in  "  the 
Keeper  of  the  prison  ;" — and  he  equally  deserved  one. 
Would  we  knew  his  Jailor's  name !  But,  like  that  of 
Joseph's,  it  is  unknown.  It  will  be  said  of  both  keepers, 
however,  until  the  end  of  time,  that  "God  gave"  their 
prisoners  favou?-  in  their  sight. 

Bunyan  says  of  his  Jailor,  "  By  him  I  had  some  liberty 
granted  me,  more  than  at  the  first :  so  that  I  followed  my 
wonted  course  of  preaching  ;  taking  all  occasions  that  were 
put  into  my  hand  to  visit  the  people  of  God,  exhorting 
them  to  be  steadfast  in  the  faith  of  Christ  Jesus,  and  to 
take  heed  that  they  touched  not  the  Common  Prayer,  but 
to  mind  the  Word  of  God,  which  giveth  direction  to 
Christians  in  every  point ;  being  *  able  to  make  the  man 
of  God  perfect  in  all  things  through  faith  in  Jesus  Christ, 
and  thoroughly  to  furnish  him  unto  all  good  work.'" 
2  Tii7i.  iii.  17.  "  Touch  Not ;" — this  seems,  at  first  sight, 
but  a  sorri/  return  for  the  freedom  so  generously  granted 
by  the  friendly  Jailor.  It  was,  however,  like  Paul's  "  Nay, 
verily,  let  them  fetch  us  out,"  addressed  to  the  Jailor  at 
Philippi.  It  was  not  to  peril  him,  but  to  maintain  the 
rights  of  Roman  Citizenship,  that  Paul  spoke  thus.  So 
with  Bunyan.  Had  he  been  silent  on  the  subject  of  the 
Prayer   Book,    out  of  consideration    for   his   Keeper,   he 


360  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

would  have  stultified  his  own  cause,  now  that  the  Prayer 
Book  was  made  the  Jdnge  upon  which  even  Citizenship 
turned.  Besides,  to  give  any  quarter  to  the  claims  of  that 
Book  then,  would  have  been  to  concede  all  the  rights  of 
conscience :  for  not  only  was  no  discretionary  use  of  it 
permitted,  but  it  was  employed  to  enforce  attendance  upon 
the  ministry  of  men  who,  in  many  instances  (judging 
merely  from  Bishop  Burnet's  account  of  them),  were 
unworthy  of  taking  its  holy  petitions  upon  their  un- 
hallowed lips.  Whilst,  therefore,  it  is  a  melancholy  fact 
in  the  annals  of  genius,  that  Bunyan  denounced  the  Book 
itself  as  if  it  had  been  weak  or  worthless,  it  is  a  glorious 
fact  in  the  annals  of  religious  Liberty,  that  he  dared  death, 
as  well  as  endured  bondage,  in  order  to  dissuade  his  own 
adherents  from  touching  the  Common  Prayer :  for  to 
touch  it  then,  whilst  it  was  both  the  symbol  and  shibboleth 
of  Intolerance,  would  have  been  homage  to  Tyranny, 
and  high  treason  against  the  first  principles  of  Pro- 
testantism. Bunyan  felt  this,  and  flung  it  to  the  winds 
at  all  hazards. 

This  hostility  to  the  Prayer  Book  had  a  re-action  which 
did  good.  It  led  the  thoughtful  admirers  of  the  Liturgy 
to  throw  their  sonl  into  the  prayers,  and  compelled  even 
hirelings  to  read  them  with  something  like  devotion ;  and 
thus  the  prejudices  of  many  were  conciliated,  wherever  the 
Service  was  well  conducted.  This  is,  happily,  the  case 
still.  Less  justice  would  be  done  to  the  Prayers  in  many 
Churches,  if  fewer  Chapels  rejected  the  use  of  them. 
Bunyan  is  not  to  thank,  nor  are  the  Nonconformists,  for 
this  re-action  ;  for  they  did  not  intend  to  produce  it. 
Nonconformists,  however,  rejoice  in  it  now.  The  Church- 
men who  doubt  this,  do  not  know  them.  They  do  not, 
indeed,  blame  Bunyan  for  teaching  "  Touch  Not ;"  but 
they  bless  God  on  behalf  of  every  devotional  man  who 
pours  the  spirit  of  prayer  into  the  forms  of  the  Church ; 
just  as  they  rejoice  in  the  multiplication  of  evangelical 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  361 

Clergymen.  There  is  no  inconsistency,  on  their  part,  in 
this.  It  implies  no  concession  to  Church  or  State,  of  even 
the  shadow  of  a  rig-ht  to  impose  forms  of  worship.  The 
whole  body  of  Dissenters  agree,  on  that  point,  with  a 
clerical  Editor  of  Bunyan*s  Pilgrim,  "  that  nominal  Pro- 
testants, enacting  laws  requiring  conformity  to  their  own 
creeds  and  forms,  and  inflicting  punishments  on  such  as 
peaceably  dissent  from  them,  are  actually  involved  in 
the  guilt  of  the  heathen  persecutors,  and  of  their  anti- 
Christian  successors,  even  if  their  doctrine  and  worship 
be  allowed  to  be  scriptural  and  spiritual.  For  these 
methods  only  serve  to  promote  hypocrisy,  and  to  expose 
the  conscientious  to  the  malice,  envy,  or  avarice  of  the 
unprincipled." — Scotfs  Notes. 

Bunyan's  Jailor  seems  to  have  been  of  this  opinion  At 
least,  he  acted  agreeably  to  it,  as  far  and  as  long  as  he  could. 
He  not  only  allowed  Bunyan  to  visit  his  family  and  his 
flock,  but  even  permitted  him  to  go  to  London.  This 
last  step  perilled  both.  It  can  hardly  be  called  a  rash  step, 
however,  on  the  part  of  Bunyan.  He  needed  more  mflu- 
ential  friends,  in  prospect  of  a  second  Trial,  than  Bedford 
could  furnish.  Besides,  all  the  Baptists  of  the  County 
were  not  sufficiently  his  friends,  to  make  a  joint  and 
hearty  eff'ort  on  his  behalf.  His  "  Open  Communion " 
Church  and  Creed,  shut  up  some  of  their  sympathies ;  and 
most  of  his  Brethren  had  quite  enough  to  do  to  take  care 
of  themselves.  It  was  also  the  right  time,  in  one  sense,  to 
visit  London,  The  King  was  juggling  the  Dissenters,  and 
the  Mayor  harassing  the  Quakers  and  Baptists,  and  the 
Cabinet  hatching  the  Act  of  Uniformity,  Thinking  men 
were  thus  upon  the  alert  to  learn  from  the  persecutions  in 
the  country,  what  more  might  be  expected  in  town. 
Henry  Adis  (a  Free  Will  Baptist,  as  he  calls  himself)  was 
also  preparing  his  Thunder  against  the  City  Magistrates, 
and  especially  against  Alderman  Brown,  in  a  pamphlet 
entitled,  "Thunder  to  Brown  the  Mayor,  by  one  of  the 
3  a 


362  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Sons  of  Zion  become  a  Boanerg-es."  Altogether  Bunyait 
found 

"  Fit  audience,  if  few," 

to  listen  to  his  complaints  and  appeals  against  his  unjust 
sentence.  It  was  also  of  importance  to  him  to  become 
acquainted  with  the  few  Baptists  in  London,  who  main- 
tained open  Communion.  One  of  these,  Henry  Jesse,  wa& 
a  man  whose  talents,  learning-  and  philanthropy,  would 
have  g-iven  additional  weight  to  any  good  cause.  Bunyan 
knew  this,  and  defended  himself  with  Jesse's  weapons, 
when  the  strict  Baptists  assailed  him.  This  was  wormwood 
to  his  opponents :  for  all  these  Churches  knew  that  Jesse 
was  a  convert  to  Immersion,  to  boast  of;  because  he  had 
prepared  a  new  translation  of  the  Scriptures,  and  was  the 
almoner  of  the  poor  Jews  in  Jerusalem,  as  well  as  the  most 
influential  minister  of  the  Denomination. 

Thus  although  hazardous,  it  was  not  rash  in  Bunyan  to 
visit  London,  whilst  his  Jailor  allowed  him  to  be  a  prisoner 
at  large.  He  won  friends  there,  who,  although  they  could 
not  deliver  him,  appreciated  him,  and  became  both  the 
means  and  the  medium  of  bringing-  him  before  the  world 
as  an  author.  Indeed,  but  for  them,  it  is  impossible  to 
see  how  his  first  Works  in  prison  could  have  been  pub- 
lished to  his  advantage,  or  even  published  at  all.  He  had 
no  money,  and  his  fellow  prisoners  had  no  influence  with 
the  Trade ;  and  thus  instead  of  pointing  old  truths  with 
pure  Saxon,  or  setting  "  apples  of  gold  in  frames  of  silver," 
he  must  have  continued  as  he  began,  to  tag  stay-laces  with 
old  brass,  had  not  his  London  friends  interfered. 

With  these  ultimate  consequences  of  Bunyan*s  visit  to 
London  before  us,  it  is  not  difficult  to  excuse  his  Jailer's 
dereliction  of  official  duty.  Even  Dr.  Southey  says,  "  He 
had  fortunately  a  friend  in  the  Jailor."  But,  did  not  the 
Jailor  betray  the  trust  confided  to  him,  and  Bunyan  sin  in 
accepting  freedom  ?  Now  the  former  certainly  went  far 
beyond  all  the  discretionary  power  which  Law  or  Custom 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  363 

allowed  to  Jailors.  He  did  not,  however,  stretch  his 
prerog-ative  farther  in  Bunyan's  favour,  than  the  Judges 
strained  theirs  against  Bunyan.  If  he  violated  his  office 
by  favouring  him,  they  violated  theirs  by  insulting  him. 
The  Judges  went  as  far  beyond  Law  when  the  prisoner 
was  at  the  bar,  as  the  Jailor  stopt  short  of  the  Law  when 
the  prisoner  was  condemned.  Thus  one  extreme  begat 
another.  Undue  severity  on  the  part  of  the  Judges, 
produced  an  excess  of  leniency  in  the  Jailor. 

But  the  man  deserves  to  be  acquitted  as  well  as  excused. 
He  was  paying  both  King  and  Law  a  high  compliment,  in 
taking  for  granted  that  they  were  more  equitable  than 
Keeling  and  Twisdon.  Charles  had  made  promises,  and 
issued  proclamations,  in  favour  of  Nonconformists,  which 
it  was  the  Jailor's  duty  to  believe,  until  they  were  revoked  : 
and  they  were  not  revoked  when  he  mitigated  Bunyan's 
sentence.  That  sentence  was  in  the  very  teeth  of  the 
royal  proclamations,  and  thus  it  tacitly  called  the  King  a 
liar  and  a  hypocrite  :  an  implication  which,  however  true, 
the  Jailor  had  no  reason  to  believe  at  the  time.  Thus  he 
had  no  alternative  but  to  disobey  the  Judges,  or  give  the 
lie  direct  to  the  King.  He  preferred  the  former  until  the 
King  gave  the  lie  to  himself. 

There  is,  I  am  aware,  special  pleading  in  this  argument. 
Be  it  so  !  It  is  thus  one  of  the  many  proofs  furnished  by 
experience,  that  it  is  impossible  to  revere  the  majesty  of 
Law,  when  the  administration  of  Justice  is  either  cruel  or 
insulting.  In  Bunyan's  case,  an  honest  man  could  no 
more  blame  the  Jailor,  than  he  could  praise  the  Judges ; 
for  his  departure  from  the  letter  of  the  Law  appears  a 
virtue  in  the  presence  of  their  outrages  against  the  spirit 
of  the  Law. 

I  once  thought,  judging  from  the  lengths  which  the 
Jailor  ventured  to  go,  that  he  must  have  made  up  his 
mind  to  lose  his  situation  rather  than  enforce  iniquitous 
sentences.     It  was,  however,  only  in  Bunyan's  case  that 


364 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


he  dared  any  thing- ;  although  there  were  other  prisoners 
equally  innocent.  He  was,  however,  kind  to  them  all; 
and  peculiarly  so  to  Bunyan  even  after  he  could  not  allow 
him  to  ramble.  His  confidence  in  him  at  first  was  almost 
superstitious.  *'  It  being-  known  to  some  of  the  persecuting- 
prelates,"  says  Ivimey,  *'  that  Bunyan  was  often  out  of 
prison,  they  sent  down  an  officer  to  talk  with  the  Jailer  on 
the  subject ;  and  in  order  to  find  him  out,  he  was  to  arrive 
there  in  the  middle  of  the  night.  Bunyan  was  at  home 
with  his  family ;  but  so  restless  that  he  could  not  sleep. 
He  therefore  told  his  wife  that  he  must  return  immediately. 
He  did  so,  and  the  Jailor  blamed  him  for  coming-  in  at  so 
unreasonable  an  hour.  Early  in  the  morning-  the  mes- 
senger came,  and  said,  '  Are  all  the  Prisoners  safe  T 
*  Yes.'  *  Is  John  Bunyan  safe  ?'  '  Yes.'  '  Let  me  see  him.* 
He  was  called  and  appeared,  and  all  was  well.  After  the 
Messenger  left,  the  Jailor  said  to  Bunyan,  "  Well,  you  may 
go  out  again  when  you  think  proper ;  for  you  know  when 
to  return,  better  than  I  can  tell  you." 

Bunyan's  return  from  London  did  not  end  so  well.  His 
visits  amongst  the  Baptists  excited  suspicion  ;  because  some 
of  that  body  were  Fifth  Monarchy  men,  or  such  extravagant 
Millenarians,  that  the  whole  body  was  singled  out  to  be 
watched  with  unwinking  jealousy.  Bunyan  was,  therefore, 
soon  discovered,  whilst  moving  to  and  fro  amongst  them, 
and  soon  reported  to  the  Government  as  a  conspirator 
from  the  country,  in  league  with  them.  Accordingly, 
another  Venner's  insurrection  was  suspected  by  the  weak 
— and  wished  for  by  the  strong.  Both  the  hope  and  the 
fear  ended,  however,  in  the  closer  confinement  of  Bunyan, 
when  he  returned  to  Bedford :  for  he  loent  back.  The  fact 
seems  to  be,  that  he  had  moved  about  in  London,  as  he 
well  might,  with  such  an  air  of  innocence  and  simplicity, 
that  even  Informers  could  not  get  up  a  charge  against  him, 
which  would  have  satisfied  even  Alderman  Brown,  although 
the  Comedians  of  the  day  were  in  the  habit  of  saying,  that 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  385 

the  Devil  had  just  ceased  to  be  hlack^  and  had  become 
Brown.  It  surprised  Bunyan,  therefore,  as  well  as  pained 
him,  to  find  on  his  return,  that  close  imprisonment  awaited 
him.  He  had  not  anticipated  this  result,  as  he  walked 
back.  He  had,  indeed,  pleased  himself  with  the  fond  hope 
of  being  much  with  his  family,  and  often  amongst  his  flock, 
to  cheer  both  with  his  presence,  and  to  encourage  them  by 
the  promises  of  sympathy  he  had  received  in  the  metropolis. 
No  wonder,  therefore,  that  he  exclaimed  when  his  Jailer 
told  him  as  he  entered  the  prison,  that  he  must  no  longer 
look  out  at  the  door,  "  God  knows  it  is  a  slander,  that  I 
went  to  London  to  make  or  plot  an  insurrection,  or  to 
sow  divisions."  He  felt  keenly  for  the  Jailor  also.  "  My 
enemies,"  he  says,  *'  were  so  angry,  that  they  had  almost 
cast  my  Jailor  out  of  his  place ;  threatening  to  indict  him, 
and  to  do  what  they  could  against  him." 

All  this,  however,  neither  alienated  nor  alarmed  the 
Jailor,  so  as  to  render  him  indifferent  about  Bunyan.  He 
could  no  longer  let  him  slip  out  of  prison  ;  but  he  did  all  he 
could  to  obtain  a  fair  hearing  for  him  at  the  next  Assizes, 
although  that  *'  right  Judas,"  Cobb,  was  opposed  to  him. 
Bunyan's  account  of  this  is  very  characteristic.  *'  Because 
I  had  a  desire  to  come  before  the  Judge  in  1662,  I  desired 
my  Jailor  to  put  my  name  into  the  calendar  among 
Felons,  and  made  friends  of  the  Judge  and  High  Sheriff, 
who  promised  that  I  should  be  called ;  so  that  I  thought 
what  I  had  done  might  have  been  effectual  for  the  ob- 
taining of  my  desire :  but  all  was  in  vain ;  for  when  the 
assizes  came,  though  my  name  was  in  the  calendar,  and 
also  though  both  the  judge  and  sheriflF  had  promised  that  I 
should  appear  before  them,  yet  the  justices  and  the  clerk 
of  the  peace,  did  so  wwk  it  about,  that  I,  notwithstanding, 
was  deferred,  and  was  not  suffered  to  appear  :  and  although 
I  say,  I  do  not  know  of  all  their  carriages  towards  me,  yet 
this  I  know^  that  the  clerk  of  the  peace  (Mr.  Cobb)  did 
discover  himself  to  be  one  of  my  greatest  opposers :  for. 


366  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

first  he  came  to  my  Jailor,  and  told  him  that  I  must  not 
go  down  before  the  judge,  and  therefore  must  not  be  put 
into  the  calendar.  To  whom  my  Jailor  said,  that  my  name 
was  in  already.  He  bid  him  put  it  out  again ;  my  Jailor 
told  him  that  he  could  not :  for  he  had  given  the  judge  a 
calendar  with  my  name  in  it,  and  also  the  sheriff  another. 
At  which  he  was  very  much  displeased,  and  desired  to  see 
that  calendar  that  was  yet  in  my  Jailor's  hand,  who,  when 
he  had  given  it  him,  he  looked  on  it,  and  said  it  was  a 
false  calendar ;  he  also  took  the  calendar  and  blotted  out 
my  accusation,  as  my  Jailor  had  written  it.  (Which 
accusation  I  cannot  tell  what  it  was,  because  it  was  so 
blotted  out.)  And  he  himself  put  in  words  to  this  purpose  : 
*  That  John  Bunyan  was  committed  to  prison ;  being 
lawfully  convicted  for  upholding  of  unlawful  meetings  and 
conventicles,  &c.'  But  yet  for  all  this,  fearing  that  what 
he  had  done,  unless  he  added  thereto,  it  would  not  do,  he 
first  ran  to  the  clerk  of  the  assizes ;  then  to  the  justices, 
and  afterwards,  because  he  would  not  leave  any  means 
unattempted  to  hinder  me,  he  came  again  to  my  Jailor,  and 
told  him,  that  if  I  did  go  down  before  the  judge,  and  was 
released,  he  would  make  him  pay  my  fees,  which  he  said 
was  due  to  him  ;  and  further,  told  him,  that  he  would 
complain  of  him  at  the  next  quarter-sessions  for  making  of 
false  calendars,  though  my  Jailor  himself,  as  I  afterwards 
IcEirned,  had  put  in  my  accusation  worse  than  in  itself  it 
was  by  far.  And  thus  was  I  hindered  and  prevented  at 
that  time  also  from  appearing  before  the  judge :  and  left 
in  prison.     Farewell.     John  Bunyan." 

This  was  a  long  farewell  to  Liberty  I  For  seven  years 
from  this  time,  there  is  no  account  of  him  in  the  Church 
Book  at  Bedford.  That,  indeed,  would  not  be  proof  that 
he  was  never  present  at  any  of  the  Church  Meetings : 
because  prudence  required  that  no  record  of  his  presence 
should  appear  upon  the  minutes.  There  is,  however,  no 
reason  to  suppose  that  he  was  ever  permitted  to  go  beyond 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  367 

his  prison  walls  once,  during*  seven  years.  And,  be  it 
remembered,  Bedford  Jail  stood  then  upon  the  Bridge  ; 
and  thus  he  had  not  even  a  yard  or  court  within  the  walls 
to  walk  in  for  air  or  exercise.  The  late  Mr.  Parry  of 
Wymondly  College  hardly  exaggerated,  therefore,  when 
he  drew  the  following-  touching  picture  of  Bunyan's  im- 
prisonment. It  is  not  altogether  true :  but  alas,  it  is  only 
too  true !  "  Look  into  that  damp  and  dreary  cell,  through 
the  narrow  chink,  which  admits  a  few  scanty  rays  of  light, 
to  render  visible  to  the  wretched  his  abode  of  woe. 
Behold,  by  the  glimmering  of  that  feeble  lamp,  a  prisoner, 
pale  and  emaciated^  seated  on  the  humid  earth,  and 
pursuing  his  daily  task,  to  earn  the  morsel  which  prolongs 
his  existence  and  confinement  together.  Near  him,  re- 
clined in  pensive  sadness,  lies  a  hlhid  daughter,  compelled 
to  eat  the  bread  of  affliction  from  the  hard  earning  of  an 
imprisoned  father  !  Paternal  affection  binds  her  to  his 
heart,  and  filial  gratitude  has  long  made  her  the  daily 
companion  of  his  captivity.  No  other  solace  remains  to 
him,  save  the  mournful  one  arising  from  the  occasional 
visits  of  five  other  distressed  children,  and  an  affectionate 
wife,  whom  pinching  want  and  grief  have  worn  down  to 
the  gate  of  death.  More  than  ten  summers'  suns  have 
rolled  over  the  stone-roofed  mansion  of  his  misery,  whose 
reviving  rays  have  never  once  penetrated  his  sad  abode. 
*  Seasons  return,'  but  not  to  hhn  returns  the  cheering 
light  of  day,  the  smiling  bloom  of  spring,  or  sound  of 
human  joy  !  Unfortunate  captive  I  What  is  his  guilt, 
what  his  crimes  ?  Is  he  a  traitor,  or  a  parricide  ?  A  lewd 
adulterer,  or  a  vile  incendiary  ?  No,  he  is  a  christian 
sufferer!  Under  all  his  calamities  peace  reigns  in  his 
breast,  heavenly  hope  glistens  in  his  eye,  and  patience  sits 
throned  on  his  pallid  cheek.  He  is  none  other  than  honest 
John  Bunyan,  languishing  through  the  twelfth  year  of  his 
imprisonment  in  Bedford  Jail  for  teaching  plain  country 
people  the  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures  and  the  practice  of 


368  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

virtue! — It  requires  the  energy  of  Fox,  the  eloquence  of   , 
Burke,  and  the  pathos  of  Sheridan,  to  paint  the  effect  of  1 
such  a  scene  on  the  feelings  of  Humanity.     My  feeble  pen 
drops  from  the  task,  and  leaves  sensibility  to  endure  those 
sensations   of  compassion  and  sorrow,   which  it  fails  to 
describe." — Parry's  Pamphlets  on  Tests. 

This,  if  overcoloured,  is  not  overdrawn.  I  venture  to 
say  the  same  of  a  painting  by  Harvey^  in  the  possession  of 
Mr.  Moon ;  which  will,  I  hope,  be  speedily  engraved.  It 
is  a  noble  composition !  Like  Bunyan  himself,  it  is  equally 
original  and  natural ;  sublime  and  simple.  Once  seen,  it 
can  never  be  forgotten.  It  may  be  somewhat  criticized, 
when  it  appears,  by  some  of  my  Readers ;  but  none  of 
them,  nor  any  one  else,  will  ^nd.  fault  with  it.  A  reduced 
Engraving  from  it,  ought  to  be  the  frontispiece  of  all 
future  Editions  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  369 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


BUNYAN    AND    THE    BAPTISTS. 


Both  the  world  and  the  Church  are  indebted  to  the 
Baptists  for  the  ministry  of  John  Biinyan,  But  for  them, 
he  might  have  "  lived  and  died  a  Tinker." — Southey. 

Bunyan  himself,  however,  was  not  much  indebted  to 
them,  as  a  body.  Individual  Ministers  and  Churches  did 
much  for  him  and  his  family,  and  the  Calvinistic  section 
of  the  Body  duly  appreciated  his  orthodoxy  ;  but  neither 
the  General  nor  the  Particular  Baptists  cared  much  about 
him.  Both  abetted  some  of  their  chief  men  in  lessening 
his  fame  and  influence.  Well  might  Dr.  Southey  say, 
"  They  neither  judged  nor  spoke  so  charitably  of  him  (as 
he  did  of  them).  They  called  him  a  Machiavelian,  a  man 
devilish,  proud,  insolent,  and  presumptuous.  Some  com- 
pared him  to  the  devil ;  others  to  a  Bedlamite  ;  others  to  a 
sot ;  and  they  sneered  at  his  low  origin  and  the  base 
occupation  from  which  he  had  risen." — Life^  p.  76. 

This  is  only  too  true.  He  was  thus  attacked  by  Kiffin 
and  Denne,  for  advocating  and  preaching  Open  Com- 
munion. Jessey  was  not,  however,  as  Dr.  Southey  states, 
one  of  "  the  eminent  Baptists  who  attacked  him  "  for  this. 
Henry  Jessey  was  both  the  Champion  and  Exemplar  of 
Free  Communion,  and  (from  all  I  can  judge)  one  of 
Bunyan's  best  friends.  His  "  Judgment  "  on  this  question, 
**  was  never  answered  "  by  the  strict  Baptists,  Bunyan  says. 
—  TFw^*,  p.  1204. 

3b 


370  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Bunyan's  adherence  and  attachment  to  the  Baptists, 
notwithstanding-  the  attacks  made  upon  him,  do  him  great 
credit.  He  was  also  a  loser  by  identifying  himself  with 
their  name  and  cause,  at  the  Restoration :  but  he  never 
flinched  nor  repented.  And  in  this,  he  only  did  them 
justice.  Their  cause  was  good,  and  their  name  bad  only 
by  misrepresentation.  Milton's  and  Locke's  excepted, 
there  are  not  nobler  appeals  on  behalf  of  Toleration,  in 
our  annals,  than  some  of  those  which  the  Baptists  made  to 
the  Throne  and  the  nation.  Even  their  Letter  to  Charles 
JL,  in  1657,  when  he  was  at  Bruges,  although  somewhat 
fulsome  in  its  compliments  to  both  his  father  and  himself, 
and  unjust  to  Cromwell,  closes  with  Propositions  to  the 
King,  which  no  flatterer  or  temporizer  would  have  dared 
to  make.  They  call  upon  him  to  pledge  his  royal  word, 
"  that  he  will  never  erect,  nor  allow  to  be  erected,  any 
such  tyrannical,  popish  and  anti-christian  Hierarchy  (Epi- 
scopalian, Presbyterian,  or  by  what  name  soever  called) 
as  shall  assume  a  power  over,  or  impose  a  yoke  upon, 
the  consciences  of  others :  but  that  every  one  of  his 
subjects  should  be  at  liberty  to  worship  God  in  such  a 
way,  as  shall  appear  to  them  agreeable  to  the  mind  and 
will  of  Christ." — Clarendo7i^  vol.  iii.  p.  359. 

They  plead  also,  and  all  but  protest,  against  being 
"  compelled  to  contribute  to  the  maintenance  of  that 
which  is  called  the  National  ministry,"  and  tell  the  King 
bluntly,  that  "  the  whole  nation,  as  well  as  the  people  of 
God,  groans  under  the  exaction  of  tithes."  They  con- 
clude, by  imploring  "  an  amnesty  for  all  godly  persons 
who  may  have  committed  any  treason  or  ofi'ence,  since  the 
beginning  of  the  unhappy  wars ;  excepting  only  such  as 
do  adhere  to  that  Ugly  Tyrant,  who  calls  himself  Pro- 
tector." Clarendon,  as  might  be  expected,  calls  these 
points,  "  extravagant  propositions  :"  but  he  honestly  records 
them  ;  and  not  the  less  willingly,  because  of  the  following 
tirade    against    Cromwell  :     "  We    have    been    cheated, 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  371 

cozened  and  betrayed  by  that  grand  Impostor, — that  loath- 
some Hypocrite, — that  detestable  Traitor, — that  prodig-y 
of  Nature,— that  opprobrium  of  Mankind, — that  landskip 
of  Iniquity, — that  sink  of  Sin,  who  now  calls  himself  our 
Protector  !"     This  torrent  of  abuse 

"  Out-Herods  Herotl !" 

It  is  not,  however,  inexplicable.  The  Baptists,  like 
others,  were  tired  of  Cromwell.  He  had  never  been  able 
to  do  much  for  them,  and  now  they  expected  nothing 
from  him  :  for  they  had  begun  to  intrigue  with  the 
Royalists  for  the  restoration  of  the  King,  and  had  thus 
every  reason  to  fear  that  they  would  be  found  out  by  the 
vigilant  Protector.  As  they  had,  therefore,  to  humble 
themselves,  and  to  pay  court,  somewhere,  for  their  own 
safety,  they  abused  both  Cromwell  and  themselves,  in 
equally  strong  language,  in  their  private  Letter  to  the 
King. —  Crosbi/s  Appendix. 

Bunyan  was  not  of  sufficient  importance  in  1657,  to 
be  applied  to  in  this  business.  He  was  then  a  Minister, 
and  had  been  indicted  for  preaching  at  Eaton :  but  his 
influence  was  not  begun.  Even  if  it  had,  he  would  hardly 
have  joined  in  such  sweeping  abuse  of  Cromwell.  Not, 
however,  that  he  admired  him  ;  but  he  was  too  little  of  a 
politician,  and  too  much  a  philosopher,  to  malign  any  one. 
Bishop  Fowler  would  not  have  said  so,  I  am  aware.  But 
although  Bunyan  handled  him  too  roughly,  there  was  no 
spite  in  the  hard  blows. 

Bunyan  was  placed  in  a  dilemma  at  the  Restoration, 
when  the  great  body  of  the  Calvinistic  Baptists  published 
their  Declaration  of  Faith,  *'  to  inform  all  men  of  their 
innocent  belief  and  practice,  in  these  days  of  scandal  and 
reproach,  when  they  were  falsely  called  Anabaptists." 
This  Declaration  was  "  owned  and  approved  by  more  than 
20,000 "  persons.  It  does  not  appear,  however,  that 
Bunyan  was  one  of  the  number,  although  there  be  nothing 


372  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

in  the  theology  or  the  politics  of  the  document  which  he 
could  not  have  signed.  It  was  signed,  Henry  Adis  says, 
by  some  of  the  General  Baptists,  on  public  grounds.  It 
contained,  however^  a  clause  which,  though  softly  worded, 
was  sharply  meant,  and  thus  abhorrent  to  Bunyan.  Baptism 
by  dipping  is,  it  says,  "  the  right  and  only  way  of  gathering 
Churches !"  **  All  such  as  preach  not  this  doctrine,  we 
utterly  deny ;  forasmuch  as  we  are  commanded  to  have  no 
fellowship  with  the  unfruitful  works  of  darkness,  but  rather 
to  reprove  them." — Article  XL  There  is  more  in  the 
letter  of  this  article  than  I  have  quoted :  but  this  is  the 
sjnrit  of  it.  It  was,  therefore,  a  public  protest,  in  fact, 
against  the  Open  Communion  Churches  with  which 
Bunyan  was  identified,  as  well  as  against  *'  all  those 
wicked  and  devilish  reports  falsely  cast  upon "  the  Body, 
"  as  though  they  would  cut  the  throats  of  those  who  were 
not  like  minded  in  matters  of  religion"  with  themselves. 

The  authors  of  this  Protest  did  not  see  the  bearings  of 
it.  Bunyan  and  his  party,  however,  felt  the  consequences 
of  it.  It  placed  them,  though  unintentionally,  where  other 
Protests  had  placed  the  Fifth  Monarchy  Baptists ;  out  of 
the  pale  of  the  Associated  Churches.  This  was  a  serious 
matter  then.  The  best  of  their  Churches  had  but  a  bad 
name,  when  Venner's  insurrection  took  place ;  and  thus, 
the  Churches  which  they  did  not  own  came  in  for  a 
worse. 

This  is  both  a  difficult  and  delicate  subject  to  touch. 
Nothing,  certainly,  was  farther  from  the  design  of  the 
men  who  led  on  the  general  Body,  than  to  imply,  even, 
that  the  Churches  or  Ministers  who  held  Open  Com- 
munion, held  any  disloyal  or  disorganizing  opinions.  They 
did  not,  however,  fraternize  with  them,  nor  own  them. 
They  did  not  stand  aloof  from  them  exactly  as  they  did 
from  Henry  Adis's  Free  Willers,  nor  at  all  for  the  same 
reasons  :  but  still,  they  had  no  fellowship  with  them  ;  and 
hence,  Bunyan  was  suspected  of  some  connexion  with  the 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  373 

Fifth  Monarchy  men,  when  he  was  discovered  in  London 
among  the  liberal  Baptists.  This  view  of  the  case  has 
never  been  taken,  that  I  know  of;  and  I  am  not  sure  that 
it  can  be  fully  sustained.  It  is,  however,  forced  upon  me 
by  the  light  in  which  the  Protests  of  the  general  Body 
placed  "  The  small  Society  of  baptized  believers,  under- 
gomg  the  name  of  Free  Willers,  about  the  City  of 
London."  Henry  Adis,  Richard  Pilgrim,  and  William 
Cox,  "  in  behalf  of  themselves,  and  those  who  walk  with 
them,"  say,  that  they  were  more  suspected  and  persecuted 
than  others.  They  seem  to  have  been  high  Millenarians ; 
and  thus  the  Protests  against  "  certain  views  of  the 
personal  reign  of  Christ  on  earth,"  although  not  aimed 
at  them  by  the  Writers,  were  applied  to  them  by  the 
magistrates.  And  the  severity  of  Bunyan's  imprisonment, 
seems  to  have  arisen  from  a  similar  cause.  He  was  not 
identified  with  the  great  body  of  his  brethren,  and  thus  he 
was  even  more  suspected  by  the  Church  and  the  State 
than  the  generality  of  them. 

Whatever  truth  there  may  be  in  this  view  of  the  matter, 
will  not  be  altered  in  its  power  or  position  by  the  fact, 
that  the  Baptist  Body  condemned,  by  their  declaration,  all 
Churches,  in  common  with  that  of  Bunyan.  This  is  true. 
But  it  is  equally  true  at  this  time,  that  their  condemnation 
of  all  but  Baptist  Churches  went  for  nothing.  Their  con- 
demnation of  other  Churches  passed  for  praise :  whereas, 
in  excepting  any  of  then'  own  order,  they  subjected  them, 
however  undesignedly,  to  unusual  suspicion :  for  as  all 
Baptists  were  then  deemed  Anabaptists,  it  was  readily 
supposed  that  disowned  Baptists  deserved  the  name. 
Neither,  indeed,  deserved  it.  It  was  a  mere  and  vile 
calumny.  But  thus  it  was  perpetuated.  Accordingly, 
Jessey  was  twice  arrested  and  imprisoned  at  this  time. 
His  name,  like  Bunyan's,  was  not  appended  to  the  Decla- 
ration of  Faith ;  and  thus  he  too  felt  the  consequences  of 
not  being  recognised  by  the  Body. 


374  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

These,  to  say  the  least,  are  singular  coincidences,  even 
if  they  do  not  prove  that  the  Protests  against  the  name 
Anabaptist  created  suspicion  against  those  who  did  not 
sign  them.  It  is  also  a  curious  fact,  that  Bunyan  had  so 
little  fear,  or  care,  about  the  name,  that  he  applies  it  to 
the  whole  Body,  just  as  he  does  the  titles  Episcopalian, 
Presbyterian,  and  Independent,  to  other  Bodies. —  Works,  : 
vol.  iii.  p.  1403. 

But  if  Bunyan  sustained  some  accidental  injury  from  the 
circumstance,  that  the  vindications  of  themselves,  issued  by 
the  General  Body,  left  those  who  did  not  belong  to  it,  to 
all  the  jealousy  of  the  times,  he  derived  much  benefit  from 
the  noble  example  of  fortitude  and  patience,  which  Keacli 
and  KifFen,  Knollys  and  Vavaser  Powel,  exhibited.  He 
did  not,  indeed,  see  Keach  in  the  pillory,  nor  Kiff'en  at  the 
bar,  nor  Knollys  haled  through  the  streets,  nor  Dagnall 
under  sentence  of  death, — nor  tlie  equally  noble  sight 
of  Brandon  of  Aylesbury  returning,  with  tears  for  his 
momentary  recantation,  to  share  Dagnall's  sentence  if 
necessary  ;  but  he  /leard  of  all  this,  and  caught  the  inspira- 
tion of  it,  and  stood  prepared  to  imitate  them  all,  if  called 
upon  to  endure  more  than  bonds.  Bunyan  could  forgive 
Kiffen  any  thing  ;  he  admired  him  so  much  for  his 
prudence  and  heroism.  "  I  forgive  Mr.  KifFen,"  he  says, 
"  and  love  him  never  the  worse,  for  what  he  hath  done  in 
the  matter  of  those  unhandsome  brands  that  my  Brethren 
have  laid  upon  me,  for  saying  that  the  Church  of  Christ 
hath  not  warrant  to  keep  out  of  her  Communion  a  visible 
saint."  One  reason  of  this  disinterested  love  was,  that 
KifFen  by  his  influence  with  the  Chancellor,  had  obtained 
a  reprieve  for  ten  men  and  two  women,  who  were 
sentenced  to  death  at  Aylesbury  for  mere  nonconformity. 
■ — Crosby,  vol.  ii.  p.  184. 

Keach  also  stood  deservedly  high,  in  Bunyan's  estima- 
tion, although  he  had  often  laid  "  The  Axe  to  the  Root" 
(as  he  thought)  of  the  Open  Communion  system.     This, 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  375 

Bunyan  forg-ot,  as  he  did  the  abortive  attempts  of  the  good 
old  Tropologist  to  allegorize,  and  thought  only  of  his 
martyr-spirit  at  the  pillory.  No  wonder  that  this  com- 
mended itself  to  a  spirit  of  the  same  order !  A  fainter 
spirit  than  Bunyan's  glows  and  glories  to  hear  Keach  say 
to  his  weeping  friends,  as  they  followed  him  to  the  Pillory, 
in  Aylesbury,  "  The  Cross  is  the  way  to  the  Crown." 
Crosby  says  (and  he  had  the  narrative  of  a  witness  to  copy 
from)  that  "His  head  and  hands  were  no  sooner  fixed 
in  the  Pillory,  but  he  began  to  address  himself  to  the 
spectators  thus :  '  Good  people,  I  am  not  ashamed  to  stand 
here  this  day,  with  this  Paper  on  my  head  ;  my  Lord  was 
not  ashamed  to  suffer  on  the  Cross.  Take  notice, — it  is 
not  for  any  wickedness  that  I  stand  here  ;  but  for  writing 
and  publishing  His  truths.' 

"  After  he  had  stood  sometime  silent,  getting  one  of  his 
hands  at  liberty,  he  pulled  his  Bible  out  of  his  pocket,  and 
held  it  up  to  the  people  saying,  *  The  things  for  which  I 
am  a  spectacle  to  men  and  angels  this  day,  are  all  contained 
in  this  book,  as  I  could  prove  out  of  the  same,  if  I  had  an 
opportunity.'  At  this,  the  Jailor  interrupted  him,  and 
with  great  anger  inquired  who  gave  him  the  book  ?  Some 
said,  his  wife.  She  was  near  him,  and  frequently  spoke  in 
vindication  of  her  husband  and  the  principles  for  which  he 
suffered.  But  Mr.  Keach  replied,  that  he  took  it  out  of 
his  own  pocket.  Upon  this  the  Jailor  took  it  from  him, 
and  fastened  up  his  hand  again,  and  told  him  he  must  not 
speak.  But  it  was  almost  impossible  to  keep  him  from 
speaking.  The  Sheriff  came  in  a  great  rage,  and  said  he 
should  be  gagged^  if  he  would  not  be  silent." — Croshy, 
vol.  ii.  p.  206. 

Even  after  this,  he  ventured  to  speak  again.  At  last, 
finding  it  was  of  no  use  to  try  more,  he  stood  in  silence 
until  his  two  hours  were  completed ;  or  only  uttering  the 
words,  '  Blessed  are  they  who  are  persecuted  for  righteous- 
ness' sake ;  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven."     When 


376  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

the  full  time  of  his  sentence  was  expired,  the  Underkeeper 
lifted  up  the  board ;  and  soon  as  his  head  and  hands  were 
at  liberty,  he  blessed  God  with  a  hud  voice  for  his  great 
goodness  to  him.  This  pillorying  was  repeated  next  week 
at  Winslow,  with  the  additional  outrage  of  burning  the 
Book  for  which  he  was  condemned,  before  his  eyes.  This 
obnoxious  Book  was,  "  The  Child's  Instructor,  or  a  new 
and  easy  Primer ;"  but  it  denied  Infant  Baptism  and 
Ecclesiastical  Domination.  It  also  taught  the  Personal 
Reign  of  Christ  on  earth,  just  as  the  prophetic  party  in  the 
Church  do  now ! 

After  a  laborious  life,  and  many  sufferings,  Mr.  Keach 
died  in  peace  at  home.  His  noble-minded  wife  did  not 
long  survive  the  scenes  of  the  pillory.  She  sank  in  the 
31st  year  of  her  age.  Her  resemblance  to  Bunyan's 
Elizabeth  was,  no  doubt,  one  reason  of  his  veneration  for 
her  husband. 

I  am  not  conjecturing ^  in  thus  ascribing  to  the  example 
of  his  suffering  Brethren,  some  of  Bunyan's  fortitude  in 
prison.  His  Works  are  full  of  proofs,  that  he  knew  well 
what  they  were  enduring,  and  felt  deeply  the  inspiration 
of  their  magnanimity.  Not  that  his  Baptist  Brethren  alone 
had  this  influence  upon  his  spirit.  All  sufferers  for  con- 
science' sake  were  dear  to  him  ;  and  hence  he  grouped 
them  in  his  kind  appeals  to  them.  And  his  appeals  had 
weight,  after  the  publication  of  his  Pilgrim.  That  Book 
opened  many  hearts  to  him  amongst  the  Strict  Baptists, 
although  it  relaxed  none  of  their  strictness.  Christian, 
Faithful,  and  Hopeful  were  admitted  into  full  communion 
in  all  their  Churches,  although  John  Bunyan  was  shut 
out. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  377 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

BUNYAN'S    PRISON    THOUGHTS.' 

BuNYAN  little  dreamt,  glorious  dreamer  as  he  was,  that  his 
prison  would  one  day  give  the  philanthropy  of  Howard 
both  an  impulse  and  a  direction,  which  should  improve  all 
the  prisons  of  Europe.  It  was,  however,  the  old  Jail  on 
Bedford  Bridge,  which  was  almost  damp  enough  to  make 
"  the  moss  grow  upon  the  eyebrows"  of  the  prisoners,  that 
fully  awoke  Howard  to  his  great  enterprise.  His  first  act, 
when  appointed  High  Sheriff  of  the  county,  was  to  improve 
the  Jail.  And  it  derogates  nothing  from  the  purity  of  his 
motives,  or  from  the  catholicity  of  his  spirit,  or  from  the 
splendour  of  his  fame,  to  proclaim  the  fact,  that  his 
principles  as  a  Dissenter  heightened  all  his  sympathies  as  a 
man  and  a  Christian.  Had  Bunyan  never  been  in  Bedford 
Jail,  nor  Howard  been  a  nonconformist,  that  Jail  would 
indeed  have  been  improved ;  but  not  so  promptly,  nor 
with  such  a  bearing  upon  the  prison-houses  of  the  world. 

Howard's  strong  sympathies  with  Bunyan's  principles, 
naturally  expanded  into  universal  philanthropy.  For 
although  no  character  could  be  more  unlike  Bunyan's, 
than  that  of  prisoners  in  general,  the  very  contrast  gave 
power  to  pity :  because  if  a  holy  prisoner,  with  a  good 
conscience  and  a  hope  full  of  immortality,  was  yet  a  sad 
man  often,  and  at  times  ready  to  sink,  what  wretched  men 
must  guilty  and  ungodly  prisoners  be !  This  was  the  line 
of  Howard's  logic ! 


378  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

It  is  well  known  that  Bunyan  was  not  idle  in  prison.  It 
is  not,  however,  every  one  who  knows  the  number  and  the 
names  of  the  Books  he  wrote  in  Jail,  that  has  an  acquaint- 
ance with  either  their  origin  or  progress.  None  of  his 
Biographers  have  led  us  into  his  cell,  or  enabled  us  to  see 
him  musing,  writing,  or  expounding.  Indeed,  it  was  long 
before  I  could  find  out  enough  of  the  Chronology  of  his 
works  to  obtain  vivid  or  definite  glimpses  of  the  student  or 
the  study.  I  have  often  wished  that  Howard  had  not 
pulled  down  the  old  Jail ;  just  that  we  might  have  seen 
and  shewn  how  Bunyan  sat  at  his  table — and  how  the  light 
fell  upon  his  Bible  and  papers — and  what  room  he  had  for 
walking  when  his  limbs  ached  with  sitting — and  whether 
the  fire-place  was  smoky — and  how  far  his  bed  was  out  of 
the  draught.  Biography  is  as  tedious  to  write,  as  it  is  to 
read,  when  we  cannot  get  thus  to  a  man*s  side,  and  peep 
at  all  his  circumstances.  It  will  not,  however,  be  for  want 
of  trying  to  do  so,  that  I  shall  fail  to  give  life  to  my 
picture. 

Bunyan's  first  deep  thoughts  in  prison,  so  far  as  they 
did  not  regard  himself  and  his  family,  were  peculiar,  and 
came  very  unexpectedly  upon  him.  One  Sabbath,  when 
it  was  his  turn  to  expound  the  Scriptures  to  his  fellow 
prisoners,  he  found  himself  "  so  empty,  spiritless,  and 
barren,"  that  he  verily  thought  he  could  not  speak  five 
words  of  edifying  truth,  with  either  "  life  or  evidence." 
But  it  was  his  turn ;  and  he  had  no  alternative ;  for  his 
brethren  and  companions  in  tribulation  for  the  kingdom 
of  God,  "expected  to  be  refreshed"  by  him.  "Pro- 
videntially it  so  fell  out  at  last,"  he  says,  "  that  I  cast 
my  eye  upon  the  11th  verse  of  the  20th  Chapter  of 
the  Revelations:  upon  which  when  I  had  considered 
awhile,  methought  I  perceived  something  of  the  Jasper 
in  whose  light  you  there  find  that  this  Holy  City  is 
said,  to  come  and  descend.  Wherefore,  having  got  in 
my  eye  some   dim   glimmerings  thereof,   and  finding  in 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  379 

my  heart  a  desire  to  see  further  thereinto,  I  with  a  few 
groans  did  carry  my  meditations  to  the  Lord  Jesus  for 
a  blessing,  which  he  did  forthwith  grant  according  to  his 
grace." 

Such  was  the  origin  of  his  Holy  City.  That  work  is 
often  called  "  The  Holy  City's  Resurrection  :"  but  Bunyan 
does  not  give  it  that  title  in  the  first  Edition ;  which  is 
now  before  me.  I  have  already  hinted  that  it  was  a 
favourite  with  him,  because  it  burst  upon  him  unexpec- 
tedly, and  flowed  from  long  cherished  recollections  of 
sick-bed  meditations.  Accordingly,  he  dedicated  it  to 
*'  four  sorts  of  readers."  The  fourth  epistle  is  addressed 
to  "  The  Mother  of  Harlots,"  thus ;  "  Mistress,  I  suppose 
I  have  nothing  here,  that  will  either  please  your  wanton 
eye,  or  go  down  with  your  voluptuous  palate.  Here  is 
bread  indeed,  as  also  milk  and  meat :  but  here  is  neither 
paint  to  adorn  thy  wrinkled  face,  nor  crutch  to  uphold  or 
undershore  thy  shaking,  tottering,  staggering  kingdom  of 
Rome  ;  but  rather  a  certain  presage  of  thy  sudden  and 
fearful  final  downfall ;  and  of  the  exaltation  of  that  Holy 
Matron  whose  chastity  thou  doest  abhor,  because  by  it 
she  reproveth  and  condemneth  thy  lewd  and  stubborn 
life.  Wherefore,  Lady, — smell  thou  mayst  of  this  j  but 
taste  thou  wilt  not.  Thou  wilt  at  the  sight  of  so 
homely  a  dish  as  this,  snuffs  and  cry  *  Foh ;' — put  the 
branch  to  the  nose,  and  say  *  Contemptible  I'  But 
Wisdom  is  justified  of  all  her  children.  The  Virgin 
daughter  of  Zion  hath  despised  thee  and  laughed  thee 
to  scorn ;  Jerusalem  hath  shaken  her  head  at  thee ;  yea, 
her  God  hath  smitten  his  hands  at  thy  dishonest  gains 
and  freaks." 

This  "  homely  dish,"  as  Bunyan  calls  the  Treatise,  must 
have  made  his  fellow  prisoners  turn  up  their  eyes  in 
wonder,  whether  it  made  the  Scarlet  Lady  turn  up  her 
nose  in  disgust  or  not.  It  is  really  an  amazing  Com- 
mentary, and  must  have  had  an  electrical  effect  upon  his 


380  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

companions.  Even  the  scholars  and  theologians  amongst 
them,  must  have  felt  that  they  had  no  such  knowledge  of 
the  letter  of  Scripture,  and  no  such  power  of  assimilating 
and  combining  scriptural  facts  and  figures.  For  in  none 
of  his  works  has  Bunyan  shewn  such  an  acquaintance  with 
the  language  of  the  Bible ;  or  such  dexterity  in  harmo- 
nizing Old  Testament  types  with  New  Testament  symbols, 
in  the  interpretation  of  prophecy.  The  old  and  new 
imagery  of  Revelation,  almost  ceases  to  be  mystical  in  his 
hands,  and  becomes  as  intelligible  as  ordinary  words.  It 
is,  of  course,  impossible  to  illustrate  this  here.  It  would, 
however,  be  wrong  not  to  mention  the  fact.  No  reader 
of  the  "  Holy  City  "  may  agree  with  Bunyan's  theory  of 
Apocalyptic  visions ;  but  every  reader  of  it  must  feel, 
with  all  the  force  of  a  sensation,  that  he  never  saw  the 
man  who  had  such  command  over  sacred  phraseology.  It 
was  well  that  Bunyan  had  no  Millenarian  vagaries  j  for 
with  his  power  over  the  harp  of  prophecy,  he  would 
have  been  a  bewitching  minstrel  in  the  Vatican  of  that 
School. 

Bunyan's  friends  did  not  forget  him  when  he  became  a 
prisoner.  Some  of  them  visited  him,  and  others  remem- 
bered his  bonds  as  if  they  had  been  bound  with  him. 
He  felt  their  kindness ;  and  as  the  least  suspicious  mode  of 
answering  the  Letters  he  received,  he  published  a  poetical 
Epistle,  dedicated  to  "  The  Heart  of  Suffering  Saints  and 
Reigning  Sinners."  There  are  some  verses  of  this  poem 
deserve  preservation  j  especially  as  we  have  so  few  speci- 
mens of  Bunyan's  correspondence. 

"  Friend,  I  salute  thee  in  the  Lord, 
And  wish  thou  mayst  abound 
In  faith,  and  have  a  good  regard 
To  keep  on  holy  ground. 
Thou  dost  encourage  me  to  hold 
My  head  above  the  flood. 
Thy  counsel  better  is  than  gold 
In  need  thereof  I  stood  I 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  381 

"  I  take  it  kindly  at  thy  hand, 
Thou  didst  unto  me  write  I 
My  feet  upon  Mount  Zion  stand. 
In  that, — is  my  delight. 
I  am  indeed  in  prison  now. 
In  body ;  but  my  mind 
Is  free  to  study  Christ,  and  how 
Unto  me  He  is  kind. 

"  For  though  men  keep  my  outward  man 
Within  their  bolts  and  bars  ; 
Yet  by  the  faith  of  Christ  I  can 
Mount  higher  than  the  stars. 
Their  fetters  cannot  spirits  tame. 
Nor  tie  up  God  from  me. 
My  faith  and  hope  they  cannot  lame  : 
Above  them  I  shall  be  ! 

"  I  here  am  very  much  refreshed 
To  think, — '  When  I  was  out, 
I  preached  life,  and  peace  and  rest, 
To  sinners  round  about.' 
My  business  then  was  souls  to  save. 
By  preaching  Grace  and  Faith : 
Of  which  the  comfort  now  I  have 
And  shall  have  unto  death. 

*'  Alas,  they  little  think  what  peace 
They  help  me  to  :  for  by 
Their  rage,  my  comforts  do  increase. 
Bless  God,  therefore,  do  1 1 
Though  they  say,  then,  that  we  are  fools, 
Because  we  here  do  lie, 
I  answer,  Jails  are  Jesus'  schools ; 
In  them  we  learn  to  die. 

"  'Tis  not  the  baseness  of  this  State 
Doth  hide  from  us  God's  face  : 
He  frequently,  both  soon  and  late, 
Doth  visit  us  with  grace. 
Here  come  the  Angels,  here  come  Saints ; 
Here  comes  the  Spirit  of  God, 
To  con;fort  us  in  our  restraints 
Under  the  Wicked's  rod. 


382  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

"  To  them  that  here  for  evil  lie, 
This  place  is  comfortless  : 
But  not  to  me,  because  that  I 
Suffer  for  Righteousness. 
The  Truth  and  1  were  both  here  cast 
Together  ;  and  we  do 
Lie  arm  in  arm,  and  so  holdfast 
Each  other.     This  is  true  ! 

"  This  Jail  to  us  is  as  a  hill, 
From  whence  we  plainly  see 
Beyond  this  world,  and  take  our  fill 
Of  things  that  lasting  be. 
We  change  our  drossy  dust  for  gold ; 
From  death  to  Life  we  fly. 
We  let  go  shadows,  and  take  hold 
Of  Immortality. 

"  That  liberty  we  lose  for  Him, 
Sickness  might  take  away. 
Our  goods  might  also,  for  our  sin. 
By  fire  or  thieves  decay. 
Who  now  dare  say,  we  throw  away 
Our  goods  or  liberty  ? 
When  God's  most  Holy  Word  doth  say. 
We  gain  thus  much  thereby. 

"  Hark  yet  again,  ye  Carnal  Men, 
And  hear  what  I  shall  say 
In  your  oivn  dialect,  and  then 
I'll  you  no  longer  stay  I 
Though  you  dare  crack  a  coward's  crown, 
Or  quarrel  for  a  pin, 
You  dare  not  on  the  Wicked  frown. 
Nor  speak  against  their  sin. 

"  Know  then,  true  valour  there  doth  dwell, 
Where  men  engage  for  God, 
Against  the  Devil,  Death  and  Hell, 
And  bear  the  Wicked's  rod. 
These  be  the  men  that  God  doth  count, 
Of  high  and  noble  mind  : 
These  be  the  men  that  do  surmount 
What  you  in  nature  find.  Works,  vol.  iii.  n.  1477. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  383 

This  "  lights  us  deep"  into  the  cast  of  Bunyan*s  musings 
in  prison.  They  were  not,  however,  always  thus  bold,  or 
bright.  But,  bright  or  dark,  he  has  told  them  with  equal 
frankness,  and  for  a  noble  purpose.  There  is  nothing 
finer  either  in  sentiment  or  language,  in  any  writer,  than 
his  application  of  David's  words,  on  contributing  to  the 
building  of  the  temple,  to  his  own  legacy  to  the  Church  ; — 
"  Many  more  of  the  Divine  dealings  towards  me  (in 
prison),  I  might  relate :  but  these,  out  of  the  Spoils  won 
in  battle,  have  I  dedicated  to  maintain  the  house  of  God." 
These  spoils,  happily,  remain  for  the  use  of  the  Church. 
"  1  have  continued  with  much  content,  through  Grace," 
he  says,  "  in  Prison  :  but  have  met  with  many  turnings 
and  goings  upon  my  heart,  both  from  the  Lord,  Satan, 
and  my  own  corruptions.  By  all  which, — Glory  be  to 
Jesus !— I  have  also  received,  among  many  things,  much 
conviction,  instruction,  and  understanding  :  of  which,  at 
large,  I  shall  not  here  discourse :  only  give  you  a  hint  or 
two  ;  a  word  that  may  stir  up  the  godly  to  bless  God,  and 
to  pray  for  me ;  and  also  to  take  encouragement,  should 
the  case  be  their  own,  *  Not  to  fear  what  man  can  do  unto 
them.' 

"  I  never  had  in  all  my  life,  so  great  an  inlet  into  the 
word  of  God  as  now :  those  scriptures  that  I  saw  nothing 
in  before,  were  made,  in  this  place  and  state,  to  shine  upon 
me ;  Jesus  Christ  also  was  never  more  real  and  apparent 
than  now;  here  I  have  seen  and  felt  him  indeed.  Oh! 
that  word,  *  We  have  not  preached  unto  you  cunningly 
devised  fables ;'  and  that,  '  God  raised  Christ  from  the 
dead,  and  gave  him  glory,  that  our  faith  and  hope  might 
be  in  God,'  were  blessed  words  unto  me  in  this  my  impri- 
soned condition. 

"  These  three  or  four  scriptures,  also,  have  been  great 
refreshments  in  this  condition  to  me  ;  '  Let  not  your  heart 
be  troubled,  ye  believe  in  God,  believe  also  in  me. — In 
my  Father's  house  are  many  mansions,  if  it  were  not  so  I 


384  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

would  have  told  you. — I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you. — 
And  if  I  go  and  prepare  a  place  for  you,  I  will  come  again 
and  receive  you  to  myself,  that  where  I  am  there  ye  may 
be  also. — And  whither  I  go  ye  know,  and  the  way  ye 
know. — These  things  I  have  spoken  unto  you,  that  in  me 
ye  might  have  peace.  In  the  world  ye  shall  have  tribula- 
tion, but  be  of  good  cheer,  I  have  overcome  the  world. — 
For  ye  are  dead,  and  your  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God ; 
when  Christ,  who  is  our  life,  shall  appear,  then  shall  ye 
also  appear  with  him  in  glory. — But  ye  are  come  to  mount 
Zion,  and  unto  the  city  of  the  living  God,  the  heavenly 
Jerusalem,  and  to  an  innumerable  company  of  angels.  To 
the  general  assembly  and  church  of  the  first-born  which 
are  written  in  heaven,  and  to  God  the  Judge  of  all ;  and 
to  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect ;  and  to  the  blood 
of  sprinkling,  that  speaketh  better  things  than  that  of 
Abel.'  So  that  sometimes  when  I  have  enjoyed  the  savour 
of  them,  I  have  been  able  to  '  laugh  at  destruction,'  and  to 
fear  neither  the  horse  nor  his  rider.  I  have  had  sweet 
sights  of  the  forgiveness  of  my  sins  in  this  place,  and  of 
my  being  with  Jesus  in  another  world  :  Oh !  *  the  Mount 
Sion,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  the  innumerable  company 
of  angels,  and  God  the  Judge  of  all,  and  the  spirits  of  just 
men  made  perfect,  and  Jesus,  have  been  sweet  unto  me  in 
this  place :  I  have  seen  that  here,  that  I  am  persuaded  I 
shall  never,  while  in  this  world,  be  able  to  express.  I 
have  seen  a  truth  in  this  scripture,  '  Whom  having  not 
seen,  ye  love ;  in  whom,  though  now  you  see  him  not,  yet 
believing,  ye  rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable,  and  full  of  glory.* 
"  I  never  knew  what  it  was  for  God  to  stand  by  me  at 
all  turns,  and  at  every  offer  of  Satan  to  afflict  me,  as  I  have 
found  him  since  I  came  in  hither :  for  look,  however  fears 
have  presented  themselves,  so  have  supports  and  encou- 
ragements ;  yea,  when  I  have  started,  even  as  it  were,  at 
nothing  else  but  my  shadow^  yet  God,  as  being  very 
tender  of  me,  hath  not  suffered  me  to  be  molested,  but 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  385 

would  with  one  scripture  or  another,  strengthen  me  against 
all;  insomuch  that  I  have  often  said,  Were  it  lawful,  I 
could  pray  for  greater  trouble,  for  the  greater  comfort's 
sake.  *  Consider  the  work  of  God,  for  who  can  make  that 
straight  which  he  hath  made  crooked  ?  In  the  day  of 
prosperity  be  joyful,  but  in  the  day  of  adversity  consider. 
God  also  hath  set  the  one  over  against  the  other,  to  the 
end  that  man  should  find  nothing  after  him.  For  as  the 
sufferings  of  Christ  abound  in  us,  so  our  consolation  also 
aboundeth  in  Christ.* 

"  Before  I  came  to  prison,  I  saw  what  was  coming,  and 
had  especially  two  considerations  warm  upon  my  heart ; 
the  first  was,  how  to  be  able  to  encounter  death,  should 
that  be  here  my  portion.  For  the  first  of  these,  that 
scripture  was  great  information  to  me,  namely,  to  pray  to 
God  *  to  be  strengthened  with  all  might,  according  to  his 
glorious  power,  unto  all  patience  and  long  suffering  with 
joyfulness.'  I  could  seldom  go  to  prayer  before  I  was 
imprisoned,  for  not  so  little  as  a  year  together,  but  this 
sentence,  or  sweet  petition,  would,  as  it  were,  thrust  itself 
into  my  mind,  and  persuade  me,  that  if  ever  I  would  go 
through  long-suffering,  I  must  have  patience,  especially  if 
I  would  endure  it  joyfully. 

"  As  to  the  second  consideration,  that  saying  was  of 
great  use  to  me,  *  But  we  had  the  sentence  of  death  in 
ourselves,  that  we  might  not  trust  in  ourselves  but  in  God 
that  raiseth  the  dead.*  By  this  scripture  I  was  made  to 
see.  That  if  ever  I  would  suffer  rightly,  I  must  first  pass 
a  sentence  of  death  upon  every  thing  that  can  properly  be 
called  a  thing  of  this  life,  even  to  reckon  myself,  my  wife, 
my  children,  my  health,  my  enjoyments,  and  all  as  dead  to 
me,  and  myself  ^^  dead  to  them. 

"  The  second  was  to  live  upon  God  that  is  invisible,  as 

Paul  said  in  another  place ;  the  way  not  to  faint  is,  '  To 

look  not  on  the  things  that  are  seen,  but  at  the  things  that 

are  not  seen ;   for  the  things  that  are  seen  are  temporal, 

3d 


386  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

but  the  tilings  that  are  not  seen  are  eternal.'  And  thus  I 
reasoned  with  myself.  If  I  provide  only  for  a  prison,  then 
the  whip  comes  at  unawares,  and  so  doth  also  the  pillory  ! 
Again,  if  I  only  provide  for  these,  then  I  am  not  fit  for 
banishment.  Further,  if  I  conclude  that  banishment  is  the 
worst,  then  if  death  comes,  I  am  surprised :  so  that  I  see, 
the  best  way  to  go  through  sufferings,  is  to  trust  in  God 
through  Christ,  as  touching  the  world  to  come ;  and  as 
touching  this  world,  '  to  count  the  grave  my  house,  to 
make  my  bed  in  darkness ;  to  say  to  corruption,  Thou  art 
my  father,  and  to  the  worm.  Thou  art  my  mother  and 
sister :'  that  is,  to  familiarize  these  things  to  me. 

"  But  notwithstanding  these  helps,  I  found  myself  a  man 
encompassed  with  infirmities  ;  the  parting  with  my  wife 
and  poor  children,  hath  often  been  to  me  in  this  place,  as 
the  pulling  the  flesh  from  the  bones ;  and  that  not  only 
because  I  am  somewhat  too  fond  of  these  great  mercies^  but 
also  because  I  should  have  often  brought  to  my  mind  the 
many  hardships,  miseries,  and  wants  that  my  poor  family 
was  like  to  meet  with,  should  I  be  taken  from  them  ; — 
especially  my  poor  blind  child,  who  lay  nearer  my  heart 
than  all  beside :  Oh !  the  thoughts  of  the  hardship  I 
thought  my  poor  blind  one  might  go  under,  would  break 
77iy  heart  to  pieces 

"  Poor  child !  thought  I,  what  sorrow  art  thou  like  to 
have  for  thy  portion  in  this  world  ?  Thou  must  be  beaten, 
must  beg,  suffer  hunger,  cold,  nakedness,  and  a  thousand 
calamities,  though  I  cannot  now  endure  the  tvind  should 
blow  upon  thee !  But  yet  recalling  myself,  thought  I,  I 
must  venture  you  all  with  God,  though  it  goeth  to  the 
quick  to  leave  you.  Oh!  I  saw  in  this  condition,  that  I 
was  as  a  man  who  was  pulling  down  his  house  upon  the 
head  of  his  wife  and  children ;  yet,  thought  I, — I  ynust  do 
it, — I  must  do  it !  And  now  I  thought  on  those  *  two 
milch  kine  that  were  to  carry  the  ark  of  God  into  another 
country,  and  to  leave  their  calves  behind  them.' 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  387 

"  But  that  which  helped  me  in  this  temptation,  were 
divers  considerations,  of  which,  three  in  special  here  I  will 
name  :  The  first  was  the  consideration  of  these  two 
scriptures,  '  Leave  thy  fatherless  children,  I  will  preserve 
them  alive,  and  let  thy  widows  trust  in  me  :'  and  again, 
*  The  Lord  said,  Verily  it  shall  go  well  with  thy  remnant ; 
verily,  I  will  cause  the  enemy  to  entreat  them  well  in  the 
time  of  evil,  and  in  time  of  affliction.' 

"  I  had  also  this  consideration,  that  if  I  should  venture 
all  for  God,  I  engaged  God  to  take  care  of  my  concern- 
ments :  but  if  I  forsook  him  in  his  ways,  for  fear  of  any 
trouble  that  should  come  to  me  or  mine,  then  I  should 
not  only  falsify  my  profession,  but  should  count  also  that 
my  concernments  were  not  so  sure,  as  if  left  at  God's  feet, 
whilst  I  stood  to  and  for  his  name,  as  they  would  be  if 
they  were  under  my  own  care,  though  with  the  denial  of 
the  way  of  God.  This  was  a  smarting  consideration,  and 
as  spurs  unto  my  flesh.  That  scripture  also  greatly  helped 
it  to  fasten  the  more  upon  me,  where  Christ  prays  against 
Judas,  that  God  would  disappoint  him  in  his  selfish 
thoughts,  which  moved  him  to  sell  his  master.  Pray  read 
it  soberly !  *  Set  thou  a  wicked  man  over  him,  and  let 
Satan  stand  at  his  right  hand.  When  he  shall  be  judged 
let  him  be  condemned,  and  let  his  prayer  become  sin :  Let 
his  days  be  few,  and  let  another  take  his  office :  Let  his 
children  be  fatherless,  and  his  wife  a  widov^' :  Let  his 
children  be  continually  vagabonds  and  beg ;  let  them  seek 
their  bread  also  out  of  their  desolate  places,  &c.  Because 
that  he  remembered  not  to  shew  mercy,  but  persecuted  the 
poor  and  needy  man  that  he  might  even  slay  the  broken 
in  heart.' 

"  I  had  also  another  consideration,  and  that  was,  the 
dread  of  the  torments  of  hell,  which  I  was  sure  they  must 
partake  of,  that  for  fear  of  the  cross,  do  shrink  from  their 
profession  of  Christ,  his  words  and  laws,  before  the  sons  of 
men.    I  thought  also  of  the  glory  that  he  had  prepared  for 


388  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

those  that  in  faith,  and  love,  and  patience,  stood  to  his 
ways  before  them.  These  things,  I  say,  have  helped  me, 
when  the  thoughts  of  the  misery  that  both  myself  and 
mine,  might  for  the  sake  of  my  profession  be  exposed  to, 
hath  lain  pinching  on  my  mind. 

"  When  I  have  indeed  conceited  that  I  might  be 
banished  for  my  profession,  then  I  have  thought  of  that 
scripture,  '  they  were  stoned,  they  were  sawn  asunder, 
were  tempted,  were  slain  with  the  sword,  they  wandered 
about  in  sheep-skins,  and  goat-skins,  being  destitute, 
afflicted,  tormented,  of  whom  the  world  was  not  worthy,' 
(for  all  they  thought  they  were  too  bad  to  dwell  and  abide 
amongst  them).  I  have  also  thought  of  that  saying,  '  the 
Holy  Ghost  witnessth  in  every  city,  that  bonds  and  afflic- 
tions abide  me.*  I  have  verily  thought  that  my  soul  and 
it  have  sometimes  reasoned  about  the  sore  and  sad  estate 
of  a  banished  and  exiled  condition ;  how  they  were 
exposed  to  hunger,  to  cold,  to  perils,  to  nakedness,  to 
enemies,  and  a  thousand  calamities ;  and  at  last,  it  may 
be,  to  die  in  a  ditch,  like  a  poor  and  desolate  sheep.  But 
I  thank  God,  hitherto  I  have  not  been  moved  by  these 
most  delicate  reasonings,  but  have  rather,  by  them,  more 
approved  my  heart  to  God. 

"  I  will  tell  you  a  pretty  business :  I  was  once,  above 
all  the  rest,  in  a  very  sad  and  low  condition  for  many 
weeks ;  at  which  time  also,  I  being  but  a  young  prisoner, 
and  not  acquainted  with  the  laws,  I  had  this  lying  much 
upon  my  spirits,  '  that  my  imprisonment  might  end  at  the 
gallows  for  ought  that  I  could  tell.*  Now  therefore  Satan 
laid  hard  at  me,  to  beat  me  out  of  heart,  by  suggesting 
thus  unto  me :  '  but  how  if,  when  you  come  indeed 
to  die,  you  should  be  in  this  condition ;  that  is,  as  not 
to  savour  the  things  of  God,  nor  to  have  any  evidence 
upon  your  soul  for  a  better  state  hereafter?'  (for  indeed 
at  that  time  all  the  things  of  God  were  hid  from  my 
soul.") 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  389 

"  Wherefore,  when  I  at  first  began  to  think  of  this,  it 
was  a  great  trouble  to  me ;  for  I  thought  with  myself,  that 
in  the  condition  I  now  was,  I  was  not  fit  to  die,  neither 
indeed  did  I  think  I  could,  if  I  should  be  called  to  it ; 
besides,  I  thought  with  myself,  if  I  should  make  a  scram- 
bling shift  to  clamber  up  the  ladder,  yet  I  should  either 
with  quaking,  or  other  symptoms  of  fainting,  give  occasion 
to  the  enemy  to  reproach  the  way  of  God  and  his  people 
for  their  timorousness.  This  therefore  lay  with  great 
trouble  upon  me,  for  methought  I  was  ashamed  to  die 
witli  a  pale  face,  and  tottering  knees,  in  such  a  cause  as 
this! 

**  Wherefore  I  prayed  to  God  that  he  would  comfort 
me,  and  give  me  strength  to  do  and  suffer  what  he  should 
call  me  to  ;  yet  no  comfort  appeared,  but  all  continued 
hid.  I  was  also  at  this  time,  so  really  possessed  with  the 
thought  of  death,  that  oft  I  was  as  if  I  was  on  the  ladder 
with  a  rope  about  my  neck :  only  this  was  some  encourage- 
ment to  me,  I  thought  I  might  now  have  an  opportunity 
to  speak  my  last  words  unto  a  multitude,  which  I  thought 
would  come  to  see  me  die ;  and,  thought  I,  if  it  must  be 
so,  if  God  will  but  convert  one  soul  by  my  last  words,  I 
shall  not  count  my  life  thrown  away,  nor  lost. 

"  But  yet  all  the  things  of  God  were  kept  out  of  my 
sight,  and  still  the  tempter  followed  me  with,  '  but  whither 
must  you  go  when  you  die  ?  what  will  become  of  you  ? 
where  will  you  be  found  in  another  world  ?  what  evidence 
have  you  for  heaven  and  glory,  and  an  inheritance  among 
them  that  are  sanctified  ?'  Thus  was  I  tossed  for  many 
weeks,  and  knew  not  what  to  do ;  at  last  this  considera- 
tion fell  with  weight  upon  me, — '  that  it  was  for  the  word 
and  way  of  God  that  I  was  in  this  condition  ;*  wherefore  I 
was  engaged  not  io  flinch  an  hair's  breadth  from  it. 

*'  I  thought  also,  that  God  might  choose  whether  he 
would  give  me  comfort  now,  or  at  the  hour  of  death ;  but 
I  might  not  therefore  choose  whether  I  would  hold  my 


390  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

profession  or  no :  I  was  bounds  but  he  was  free ;  yea,  it 
was  my  duty  to  stand  to  his  word,  whether  he  would  ever 
look  upon  me  or  save  me  at  the  last :  wherefore,  thought 
I,  the  point  being-  thus,  I  am  for  going  on,  and  venturing 
my  eternal  state  with  Christ,  whether  I  have  comfort  here 
or  no ;  if  God  doth  not  come  in,  thought  I,  '  I  will  leap 
off  the  ladder  even  blindfold  into  eternity, — sink  or  swim, 
— come  heaven,  come  hell ;  Lord  Jesus,  if  thou  wilt  catch 
me,  do  ; — if  not,  I  will  venture  for  thy  name !' 

"  I  was  no  sooner  fixed  in  this  resolution,  but  this  word 
dropped  upon  me,  *  Doth  Job  serve  God  for  nought  ?' 
As  if  the  accuser  had  said,  *  Lord,  Job  is  no  upright  man, 
he  serves  thee  for  by-respects :  hast  thou  not  made  an 
hedge  about  him  ?  But  put  forth  now  thine  hand,  and 
touch  all  that  he  hath,  and  he  will  curse  thee  to  thy  face/ 
How  now !  thought  I,  is  this  the  sign  of  an  upright  soul, 
to  desire  to  serve  God,  when  all  is  taken  from  him?  Is 
he  a  godly  man  that  will  serve  God  for  nothing,  rather 
than  give  out !  Blessed  be  God ;  then  I  hope  I  have  an 
upright  heart,  for  I  am  resolved  (God  giving  me  strength) 
never  to  deny  my  profession,  though  I  have  nothing  at 
all  for  my  pains.  And  as  I  was  thus  considering,  that 
scripture  was  set  before  me,  *  Thou  sellest  thy  people  for 
nought  and  dost  not  increase  thy  wealth  by  their  price : 
Thou  makest  us  a  reproach  to  our  neighbours,  a  scorn  and 
derision  to  those  that  are  round  about  us :  Thou  makest 
us  a  by-word  among  the  heathen,  a  shaking  of  the  head 
among  the  people  :  My  confusion  is  continually  before  me, 
and  the  shame  of  my  face  hath  covered  me  :  For  the  voice 
of  him  that  reproacheth  and  blasphemeth,  by  the  reason  of 
the  enemy  and  avenger :  All  this  is  come  upon  us,  yet 
have  we  not  forgotten  thee,  neither  have  we  dealt  falsely 
in  thy  covenant :  our  heart  is  not  turned  back,  neither 
have  our  steps  declined  from  thy  way,  though  thou  hast 
sore  broken  us  in  the  place  of  dragons,  and  covered  us 
with  the  shadow  of  death.* 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  391 

"  Now  was  my  heart  full  of  comfort,  for  I  hoped  it  was 
sincere.  I  would  not  have  been  without  this  trial  for 
much.  I  am  comforted  every  time  I  think  of  it ;  and  I 
hope  I  shall  bless  God  for  ever,  for  the  teachings  I  have 
had  by  it.  Many  more  of  the  divine  dealing's  towards  me 
I  might  relate,  *  But  these  out  of  the  spoils  won  in  battle 
have  I  dedicated  to  maintain  the  house  of  God.'" 

Bunyan  appended  to  this  wonderful  document  some 
outlines  of  another  class  of  thoughts,  which  render  it  even 
more  wonderful  than  it  appears  at  first  sight.  There  were 
times,  whilst  these  hopes  and  fears  were  chasing  each 
other,  when  Infidelity^  as  well  as  darkness,  shook  him 
more  in  prison  than  all  the  temptations  he  had  ever  gone 
through  before.  *'  Of  all  the  temptations  I  ever  met  with 
in  my  life,  the  worst,  and  the  worst  to  bear,  is,"  he  says, 
"  to  question  the  being  of  God,  and  the  truth  of  the 
Gospel.  When  this  temptation  comes,  it  taketh  away  my 
girdle  from  me,  and  removeth  the  foundation  from  under 
me.  O,  I  have  often  thought  of  that  word,  *  Have  your 
loins  girt  about  with  Truth ;'  and  of  that,  *  If  the  founda- 
tions be  destroyed  what  can  the  Righteous  do  ?' " 

When  I  first  read  this  sad  account  of  his  struggles  in 
prison,  I  felt  anxious  to  know  how  he  got  over  the 
temptation.  But  the  document  is  silent  on  that  subject. 
It  furnishes  no  clue  to  the  means  or  the  process  of  his 
victory.  He  left  a  clue,  however,  in  another  Work ;  and 
it  is  an  interesting  one,  although  but  an  incidental  remark. 
In  his  Commentary  on  parts  of  Genesis,  he  says  of  the 
Rainbow  and  the  rej]^ularity  of  seed-time  and  harvest, 
"  My  Reason  tells  me  they  are,  and  have  continued  a  true 
prophecy ;  otherwise,  the  world  could  not  have  existed: 
for,  take  away  seed-time  and  harvest,  and  an  end  is  put  to 
the  beginning  of  the  universe.  These  words  were  some 
of  the  first  (chief?)  that  prevailed  with  me  to  believe 
the  Scriptures  to  be  the  Word  of  God."—  Works^  vol.  iv. 
p.  2556. 


392  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

These  Prison  Thoughts,  although  somewhat  out  of 
place  here,  will  enable  the  reader  to  appreciate  the  Works 
which  were  written  in  Jail ;  and  thus  they  will  be  more 
valuable  as  lights  upon  them,  than  as  details  of  Bunyan's 
experience.  His  hand  will  be  traced  with  interest,  now 
that  his  heart  is  naked  and  open  before  us.  As  Experi- 
ence, however,  these  details  are  highly  instructive,  as  well 
as  interesting.  The  thorough  sifting  he  now  gives  to  his 
motives  and  emotions  ;  to  tokens  and  impulses ;  contrasts 
finely  with  his  early  imprudences,  when  he  was  the 
creature  of  circumstances.  What  he  says  of  Noah,  with 
the  olive  leaf,  may  be  applied  to  himself  now.  "  Noah 
was  inquisitive  and  searching,  as  to  how  the  dove  found  it. 
That  is,  whether  she  found  it  dead  on  the  waters,  or 
pluckt  it  from  a  tree?  He  found  by  its  freshness  and 
greenness  as  a  slip,  that  she  had  plucked  it  off.  Wherefore 
he  had  good  ground  to  be  comforted  now :  for  the  waters 
could  not  be  deep ;  especially  as  the  olive  tree  grows  in 
the  bottoms  or  valleys.  So  we  should  say  of  all  Signs  and 
Visions,  either  inward  or  outward, — *  See  whether  they  be 
dead  leaves,  or  plucked  from  a  green  tree.'  There  are 
lying  Visions; — and  not  a  few  have  cast  up  all  (religion), 
because  the  seeming  truth  of  some  vision  hath  failed." — 
WorkSj  vol,  i.  p.  63.  fol.  ed. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN,  393 


CHAPTER  XXXIl. 

BUNYAN*S    PRISON    AMUSEMENTS. 

Bunyan's  chief  enjoyment  in  Prison,  next  to  his  high  com- 
munion with  God  and  Heaven,  was  the  composition  of  his 
Pilgrim's  Progress.  That  Work  was  the  only  one  of  his 
joys,  which  he  allowed  neither  stranger  nor  friend  to  inter- 
meddle with.  He  kept  it  "  a  fountain  sealed^'*  from  all 
his  family  and  fellow  prisoners,  until  it  was  completed. 
Dunn,  or  Wheeler,  or  Coxe,  or  any  other  companion, 
might  hear  a  page,  or  obtain  a  peep,  of  any  of  his  other 
Works,  whilst  they  were  planning  or  in  progress  ; — but 
the  Pilgrim  was  for  no  eye  nor  ear  but  his  own,  until  he 
"  awoke  out  of  his  Dream."  He  never  once,  during  all 
that  Dream,  "  talked  in  his  sleep." 

This  fact  has  never  been  noticed,  so  far  as  I  recollect, 
by  any  of  his  Biographers  or  Critics,  although  he  himself 
states  it  strongly.  He  says  expressly  of  the  Pilgrim's 
Progress, 

"  Manner  and  matter  too  were  all  my  own, 
Nor  was  it  unto  any  Mortal  known, 
Till  I  had  done  it" 

Preface. 

It  was  thus,  most  likely,  written  whilst  his  companions  were 
fast  asleep,  or  before  they  got  up  in  the  morning.  And  if 
so,  this  will  partly  account  for  that  passionate  love  of  sun- 
rise, and  his  grief  at  sunset,  which  runs  through  his  poetry, 
in  the  *'  Divine  Emblems  ;"  as  well  as  for  his  frequent 
3   E 


394  LIFE    OF    EUNYAN. 

sonnets  about  his  Candles,  when  a  fall  or  a  flj  injured 
them.  But  however  this  may  be,  his  prison  amusements, 
as  detailed  in  this  chapter,  will  throw  some  light  upon  the 
process  by  which  he  brought  and  kept  himself  up  to  the 
mark,  in  composing  his  Pilgrims  ;  as  well  as  shew  how  he 
lightened  all  his  labour  by  diversifying  his  pursuits,  and 
humouring  the  versatility  of  his  mind. 

It  is  not  from  conjecture,  that  I  assign  to  his  prison  the 
origin  of  the  following  specimens  of  his  genius  and  habits. 
His  spiidtualizings  began  to  be  written  there.  He  took 
his  turn  too  in  that  Exercise,  in  the  Common  Room  of 
the  Jail.  And  as  he  had  no  time  to  write  poetry  after  he 
was  released  from  prison,  his  "  Divine  Emblems  "  can  be 
traced  to  no  other  place.  Besides,  they  bear  all  the  marks 
of  the  prison  house ;  and  were,  most  likely,  prepared  to  be 
sold  by  his  wife  and  children,  along  with  the  Tag-laces 
upon  which  their  daily  bread  depended  for  a  time. 

Bunyan's  amusements  in  Prison  were  all  literary.  He 
had  nothing  but  his  pen  wherewith  to  cheat  or  cheer  his 
sad  hours.  The  only  thing  in  the  form  of  a  comfort  in  his 
cell,  apart  from  his  Bible,  Concordance,  and  Book  of 
Martyrs,  was  a  Rose-Bush ;  and  of  It  he  was  so  fond,  that 
it  seems  to  have  been  sent  to  him  as  a  memorial  of  old 
friendship. 

"  This  homely  Bush  doth  to  mine  eyes  expose, 
A  very  fair,  yea  comely,  ruddy  rose. 
This  rose  doth  always  bow  its  head  to  me, 
Saying,  '  Come  pluck  me ;  I  thy  rose  will  be.'  " 

But  whilst  he  thus  complimented  it  upon  its  beauty,  and  its 
seeming  good  will  towards  him,  he  also  quarrelled  with  it 
playfully  at  times,  because  it  pricked  his  fingers. 

"  Yet, — offer  J  to  gather  rose  or  bud, 
'Tis  ten  to  one,  but  Bush  will  have  my  blood. 
Bush  ! — why  dost  bear  a  rose,  if  none  must  have  it  ? 
Why  thus  expose  it,  yet  claw  those  that  crave  it  .^ 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  395 

Art  hecovae  freakish  ?     Dost  the  Wanton  play  ? 
Or  doth  thy  testy  humour  tend  this  way  ? 
This  looks  like  a  trepan,  or  a  decoy, 
To  offer,  and  yet  snap,  who  would  enjoy  !" 

Vol.  ii.  p.  971. 

When  Bunyan  wrote  this,  the  word  trepan  had  a  very 
emphatic  meaning*.  Trepanners  was  the  name  of  the 
Olivers  and  Castles  of  these  times  ;  and  although  none 
of  them  had  tampered  with  him,  he  knew  well  what 
Crowther  had  done,  and  what  Evan  Price  had  suffered,  in 
Lancashire. 

Besides  his  Rose-Bush  and  Sand-Glass,  and  a  spider 
he  became  acquainted  with  at  the  window,  Bunyan  had 
nothing-  to  divert  his  lonely  hours,  except  what  he  could 
see  upon  the  road  or  the  river,  through  the  iron  gratings, 
on  market  days.  Then,  he  sometimes  enjoyed  a  laugh  at 
the  expense  of  the  Farmers. 

"  There's  one  rides  very  sagely  on  the  road ! 
Shewing  that  he  affects  the  gravest  mode. 
Another  rides  tantivy,  or  full  trot, 
To  shew  such  gravity,  he  matters  not. 
Lo,  here  comes  one  amain :  he  rides  full  speed. 
Hedge,  ditch,  or  niiry  bog,  he  doth  not  heed. 
One  claws  it  up-hill,  without  stop  or  check. 
Another  down,  as  if  he'd  break  his  neck.         « 
Then  let  us,  by  the  methods  of  his  guider, 
Tell  every  Horse  how  he  may  k7iotv  his  rider." 

Vol.  ii.  p.  973. 

But  the  study  of  Solomon's  Temple  was  Bunyan's  chief 
relaxation  :  for  although  his  poetry  amused  him,  it  also 
wearied  him  j  because  he  could  not  rhyme  so  fast  as  he 
reasoned.  Spiritualizing  in  prose  was  his  hohhy^  when  he 
had  done  with  his  hard  work. 

We  have  seen  enough  of  Bunyan's  "  vein  "  already,  in 
his  accidental  and  unconscious  allegorizing,  to  whet  our 
curiosity  for  his  deliberate  efforts.  The  man  who  wrote 
the  Pilgrim  and  the  Holy  War,  in  what  Montgomery  well 


396  LIFE    OF    UUNYAN. 

calls,  "  Allegory  so  perfect  as  to  hide  itself  like  light, 
whilst  revealing  through  its  colourless  and  undistorting 
medium  all  beside,"  was  sure  to  place  other  truths  in  the 
same  light.  Indeed,  it  was  by  trying  his  hand  often  at 
brief  spiritualizations,  that  he  became  master  of  length- 
ened and  continuous  allegory.  He  improved  himself  by 
amusing  himself. 

This  has  never  been  sufficiently  noticed.  It  is,  however, 
essential  to  the  history  of  his  genius  and  writings  :  and  if 
its  development  bring  out  some  conceits,  both  extravagant 
and  ludicrous,  we  should  remember  whilst  we  laugh,  that 
he  needed  a  Iwhhy,  and  that  the  worst  and  weakest  of  his 
conceits  may  be  paralleled  in  the  works  of  both  the 
Fathers  and  the  Reformers.  It  was  St.  Athanasius,  not 
Bunyan,  who  found  the  penitent  thief  of  Calvary  in 
Habakkuk's  prophecy,  that  "  the  beam  (the  beetle  :  Sep- 
tuagint)  out  of  the  wall,  shall  put  forth  a  voice."  It  was 
St.  Bernard,  who  found  the  origin  of  Satan's  name, 
Diabolus,  in  the  words  "  duobus  bolis^''  two  pockets. 
Bunyan  seldom  went  further  than  St.  Jerome,  who  found 
all  the  Christian  virtues  symbolized  in  the  pontificals  of 
Aaron.  I  need  not  add,  that  he  never  dreamt  of  applying 
the  prophecies  of  the  Agony  or  the  Atonement  to  the 
martyrdom  of  Charles.  He  did  think,  however,  that  the 
doors  of  the  Temple  were  made  oi  fir,  because  the  fir-tree 
is  *'  the  house  of  the  Stork  ;  an  unclean  bird  ;  and  thus  an 
emblem  of  sinners,  who  find  refuge  and  rest  in  the 
gospel."  He  had  no  doubt  that  the  ceiling  of  the  temple, 
as  it  was  studded  with  precious  stones, — "  here  a  pearl, 
and  there  a  diamond  ;  here  a  jasper,  and  there  a  sapphire ; 
here  a  sardius,  and  there  a  jacinth  ;  here  a  sardonyx,  and 
there  an  amethyst,"  was  an  emblem  of  both  the  diversity 
and  the  distribution  of  the  gifts  of  the  Spirit  in  the  church. 
"  I  verily  think,"  he  says,  **  that  the  ten  lavers"  also,  in 
which  the  burnt  sacrifice  was  washed,  "  were  a  figure  of 
the  Ten  Commandments,  by  perfect  obedience  to  which, 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  397 

Christ  became  capable  of  being-  an  acceptable  burnt  offering 
to  God,  for  the  sins  of  the  people." 

When  Bunyan  is  not  thus  quite  sure  that  he  has  "  hit 
right,"  and  yet  cannot  agree  with  a  current  interpretation, 
nor  improve  his  own,  he  grows  somewhat  snappish  as  well 
as  humble.  The  thousand  chargers  of  silver,  and  the 
thirty  of  gold,  in  which  the  passover  was  served,  are 
too  numerous  and  different  to  be  easily  paralleled  in  the 
Christian  Church.  He  finds  them,  however,  in  the  sacred 
writers  and  the  sacrament.  Still,  he  felt  that  the  numbers 
did  not  tally.  But  he  could  not  mend  the  matter.  He, 
therefore,  breaks  off,  not  a  little  hot  as  well  as  humble  : — 
saying,  "  He  that  will  scoff  at  this,  let  him  scoff!  The 
Chargers  are  a  type  of  something :  and  he  that  can  shew  a 
fitter  antitype  than  is  here  proposed,  let  him  do  it,  and  I 
will  be  thankful  to  him."  Bunyan  does  not,  however,  get 
into  this  humour  often.  His  conjectures  were  so  often 
ingenious,  and  so  uniformly  pure,  that  they  seldom  awoke 
a  suspicion  of  their  truth,  in  his  own  mind.  The  "  open 
flowers,"  carved  upon  the  doors  of  the  Temple,  he  regarded 
as  certainly  "carved  there,  to  shew^  that  Christ,  who  is 
the  door  of  glory,  as  well  as  the  door  of  grace,  will  be 
as  precious  to  us  when  we  enter  the  mansion-house  of 
Heaven,  as  when  we  took  the  first  step"  into  the  Church 
on  earth.  The  "Palm  Trees"  also,  being  carved  in  the 
Holy  Place,  as  well  as  upon  the  doors  of  the  Temple, 
were  proofs  that  glory  would  follow  grace  :  for,  he  argues, 
*'  as  sure  as  we  receive  the  palm-branch  by  faith,  we  shall 
wear  it  in  our  hands  in  the  heaven  of  heavens  for  ever." 
In  like  manner  "  he  had  no  doubt  that  the  "  gold  upon 
gold,"  which  ''overlaid''  all  the  chief  types,  proved  the 
same  point.  "  Gold  spread  upon  gold !"  he  exclaims ; 
"  Grace  is  gold  in  the  leaf,  and  Glory  is  gold  in  plates. 
Grace  is  thin  gold  :   Glory  thick  gold." 

Thus  there  was  some  sarcasm  as  well  as  much  compli- 
ment in   Addiso7TbS  remark,   when   he   called  Bunyan  as 


398  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

great  a  Father  as  any  of  the  Fathers,  in  the  art  of 
spiritualizhig.  He  did  not,  however,  say  the  same  of 
either  Worden's  Types  Unveiled,  or  Keache's  Metaphors. 
Addison  felt  that  Bunyan  was  chaste,  even  when  most 
fanciful.  Bunyan  was,  however,  fondest  of  the  finery. 
Accordingly,  whilst  he  makes  a  great  deal  of  the  golden 
Nails  in  the  temple,  he  says,  "  I  shall  not  concern  myself 
with  those  Nails  made  with  irony  Iron  nails  were  asso- 
ciated in  his  mind  with  his  own  craft ;  and  thus  not  very 
inspiring  to  him  :  but  he  weighed,  and  almost  counted, 
the  golden  ones. 

His  finest  guess  is,  I  think,  at  the  reason  why  the  height 
of  the  Mercyseat  was  not  to  be  measured.  The  length  and 
breadth  are  given,  he  says,  "  but  the  height  was  without 
measure,  to  shew  that,  would  God  extend  mercy,  it  could 
reach  anywhere."  He  is  hardly  less  happy,  when  he  says, 
that  the  golden  chains  which  divided  the  Holy  Place  from 
the  Holy  of  Holies,  were  real  chains,  to  shew  us  that  even 
in  Heaven  there  will  be  a  distinction,  or  "  an  infinite 
disproportion,  between  the  creature  and  the  Creator  for 
ever.  The  partition  made  in  this  House  by  these  glorious 
chains,  was  not  so  much  to  divide  the  holy  place  from  the 
most  holy,  as  to  shew  that  there  is  in  the  Holiest  House, 
that  which  is  still  more  worthy  than  it.  True,  they  are 
chains  of  gold;  but  even  these — will  keep  creatures  in 
their  place,  that  the  Creator  may  have  all  the  glory." 
Thus,  whilst  he  revelled  amidst  the  golden  splendours  of 
the  Temple,  as  types  of  heavenly  glory,  he  maintained, 
what  one  of  the  old  Covenanters  (Andrew  Grey)  well 
calls,  "  that  solid  apprehension  of  the  highness  of  God, 
which  keeps  the  Christian  from  trespassing  on  these  ways 
and  coverings  that  are  fixed  between  the  Infinite  Majesty, 
and  those  who  are  but  the  dust  of  his  feet."  This  holy  awe, 
however,  had  nothing  of  the  spirit  of  bondage  in  it.  Like 
the  High  Priest,  Bunyan  felt  himself  quite  at  home  in  the 
Temple.      He   found  its  shadows  realized   in  the  Gospel, 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  399 

and  said  with  triumph,  "  We  have  a  g-olden  door  to  g-o  to 
God  by,  and  g-olden  angels  to  conduct  us  through  the 
world,  and  golden  palmtrees  as  tokens  of  our  victory,  and 
golden  ^ open-Jiowers'  to  smell  all  the  way  to  heaven!" 

He  was  very  fond  of  the  "  Winding  stairs"  of  the 
temple.  He  liked  to  go  "  up  them,  and  up  them,  and  up 
them,  till  he  came  to  a  view  of  Heaven."  "  I  went,"  he 
says,  "  up  the  turning  stairs,  till  I  came  to  the  highest 
chambers.  A  strait  pair  of  stairs  are  like  the  ladder  by 
which  men  ascend  to  the  Gallows :  they  are  turning  stairs 
that  lead  us  to  the  heavenly  mansion-houses.  They  are, 
therefore,  types  of  a  two-fold  Repentance :  that,  by  which 
we  turn  from  nature  to  Grace  ;  and  that,  by  which  we 
turn  from  grace  to  grace,  or  from  imperfection  to  glory. 
This  turning,  and  turning  still"  (from  good  to  better), 
he  says,  "  displeases  some  much.  They  say,  it  makes  them 
giddy :  but  I  say, — there  is  no  way  like  this,  to  make  a 
man  stand  steady  in  the  Faith,  or  at  the  day  of  judgment. 
Many  in  Churches,  who  seem  to  be  turned  from  nature  to 
grace,  have  not  the  grace  to  go  up  turning  still ;  but  rest 
in  a  shew  of  things,  and  so  die  below." 

There  is  so  much  fact,  as  well  as  fancy,  in  these  Inter- 
pretations, that  we  can  hardly  wonder  that  Bunyan  sits 
down,  now  and  then,  amidst  the  mystic  arcana  of  tlie 
Temple,  exclaiming,  "  O,  what  speaking  things  are  types, 
shadows,  and  parables,  if  we  had  but  eyes  to  see,  and  ears 
to  hear !"  He  saw,  be  it  remembered,  with  his  own  eyes 
only.  "  I  have  not  fished,"  he  says,  "  in  other  men's  waters 
for  these  things.  My  Bible  and  Concordance  are  ray  only 
Library,  in  my  writings.  Much  of  the  glory  of  our 
gospel -matters  lies  wrapt  up  in  a  mantle,  by  Solomon  ; 
and  therefore  I  have  made  this  book  as  well  as  I  could, 
by  comparing  spiritual  things  with  spiritual." — Works, 
p.  1971. 

The  Molten  Sea,  as  may  be  supposed,  was  not  left 
under  Solomon's  mantle.     Bunyan  uncovers  it  from  brira 


400  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

to  brim;  and  finding  that  it  was  just  "ten  Cubits"  wide, 
lie  concludes  that  the  Ten  Commandments  had  not  more 
power  to  condemn,  than  the  Gospel  has  to  save.  Even 
the  hrbn  of  the  Laver  must  preach.  It  was  like  a  cup, 
and  therefore  "  intended  to  invite  us  to  drink  of  its  grace, 
as  well  as  to  wash  in  its  water."  And  as  its  brim  was 
wreathed  with  Lilies,  or  "  like  a  lily-flower,  it  was  to  shew 
how  those  who  were  washed  in,  and  did  drink  of  this  Holy 
Water,  should  grow  and  flourish ;  and  with  what  beautiful 
robes  they  should  be  adorned  ;  and  that  God  would  take 
care  of  them  as  He  did  of  lilies."  We  have  seen  already, 
that  all  the  lily-work  about  the  Temple  was  enchanting  to 
Bunyan.  Even  Solomon  would  have  said  of  him,  "  he 
feedeth  amongst  the  lilies." 

It  deserves  notice  that  he  did  not  seek  for  Baptism  in 
the  Molten  Sea ;  tempting  as  the  great  Laver,  with  its 
•'  three  thousand  baths "  of  water,  was.  But  although  it 
was  quite  an  Enon,  he  was  silent.  Not  so,  however,  when 
he  saw  the  Ten  smaller  Lavers  in  which  the  Sacrifices 
were  washed.  Their  ivheels,  he  says,  "  signify  walking  feet. 
Obedience  is  typified  by  the  Lavers  walking  on  their 
wheels."  His  views  of  holy  Obedience  were,  he  knew, 
common  to  all  Christians ;  and  therefore  he  grafted  them 
upon  any  type  :  but  he  respected  both  his  own  views  of 
Baptism,  and  the  consciences  of  those  who  diff'ered  from 
him,  too  much,  to  graft  the  mode  of  that  ordinance  upon 
even  the  Laver  "  to  wash  the  worshippers." — Works,  p.  1996. 
The  frankincense  scattered  upon  the  Shew  Bread,  even 
when  the  cakes  were  laid  fresh  upon  the  Golden  Table, 
suggested  to  him  the  necessity  of  the  "  perfumes  and 
sanctifications  of  the  Holy  Spirit,"  to  purify  the  best  works 
of  a  Christian ;  and  the  removal  of  the  cakes  when  they 
became  at  all  "  musty  or  stale,"  taught  him  to  bring  new 
and  icarm  service  to  the  House  of  God. 

The  incense  being  compounded  of  "  three  sweet  spices, 
called    Stacte,    Onycha,   and   Galbanum,   it  answers,"  he 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  401 

says,  "  to  the  three  parts  of  Devotion  ;  prayer,  supplication, 
and  intercession.  The  spices  were  gummy,  and  so  apt  to 
burn  with  a  smoke  ;  to  shew  that  not  cold  and  flat,  but 
hot  and  ferv^ent,  is  the  prayer  that  flows  from  the  Holy 
Spirit.  Even  this  Incense  was  to  be  offered  upon  the 
Golden  Altar,  to  shew  that  no  prayer  is  accepted  but 
through  CWistr— Works,  p.  2004. 

Bunyan  rises  to  the  sublhne  in  the  Holy  of  Holies. 
"  The  most  holy  Place  was  dark.  It  had  no  windows. 
Things  were  only  seen  by  the  light  of  ihejire  of  the  Altar : 
to  shew  that  God  is  altogether  invisible  but  to  faith.  The 
Holiest  was  built  to  shew  us  how  different  our  state  in 
Heaven  will  be,  from  our  state  on  earth.  We  walk  here 
by  one  light,  the  Word :  but  that  Place  will  shine  more 
bright  than  if  all  the  lights  of  the  world  were  put 
together.  Even  on  the  Vail  of  the  Temple  were  figures 
of  Cherubim,  to  shew  that  as  the  angels  wait  on  us  here, 
so  they  will  wait  for  us  at  the  door  of  their  heavens." — 
P.  2012. 

It  was  thus  Bunyan  cheered  many  of  his  lonely  hours  in 
Jail,  and  learnt  to  build  and  beautify  his  own  Interpreter's 
House.  That  house  is  not,  indeed,  very  magnificent.  As 
a  house  for  Pilgrims,  it  ought  to  be  plain.  Still,  I  cannot 
help  suspecting  that  the  Prison,  by  reflecting  none  of  tlie 
bright  visions  of  the  Temple,  and  by  disturbing  them  all 
as  they  shone,  made  the  Interpreter's  House  plainer  than 
keeping  required.  But  however  this  may  be,  these  speci- 
mens of  Bunyan's  Spiritualizing  will  explain  a  little  bis 
cheerfulness  in  prison,  and  account  for  many  of  his  "  witty 
inventions."  He  could  not  pursue  such  thoughts,  without 
both  forgetting  and  improving  himself  at  the  same  time. 
It  is,  however,  hardly  less  pleasing  to  remember  that  many 
did  both,  without  Bunyan's  talents.  Thus  it  would  be 
difficult  to  say,  which  is  the  more  instructive  fact ;  whether 
a  Bunyan  possessing  his  mighty  "  soul  in  patience,"  or  an 
ordinary  man  "  rejoicing  in  tribulation."  Both  Paul  and 
3f 


402  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Silas    sang   in    the    same    prison.      So    did    Bunyan    and 
Kelsey. 

Kelsey,  one  of  the  Lincolnshire  Baptists,  seems  to  have 
been  seventeen  years  in  prison.  Little  else  is  known  of 
him,  except  that  he  was  a  good  man,  and  "  Sang  this 
Song ;" 

"  I  hope  the  more  they  punish  me,  that  I  shall  grow  more  bold ; 
The  Furnace  they  provide  for  me,  will  make  me  finer  gold. 
My  Friends,  my  God  will  do  me  good,  when  they  intend  me  harm; 
They  may  suppose  a  prison  cold,  but  God  can  make  it  warm. 
Th«y  double  my  imprisonment,  whate'er  they  mean  thereby  : 
My  God  in  it  gives  me  content ;  and  then,  what  loss  have  I  ? 
What  if  my  God  should  suffer  them,  on  me  to  have  their  will. 
And  give  me  Heaven  instead  of  Earth?     I  am  no  loser  still." 

Taylor  s  General  Baptists. 

When  Bunyan  lifted  his  eyes  from  his  Bible  in  prison, 
he  saw  little,  of  course,  to  sharpen  his  wits,  or  to  give  play 
to  his  fancy.  He  could,  however,  make  much  of  a  little. 
His  cell  overhung  the  River,  and  thus  he  could  look  down 
upon  the  gliding  stream,  and  forth  upon  the  aspects  of  the 
sky.  A  leaping  fish,  or  a  skimming  swallow,  was  both  an 
event  and  a  sermon  to  him,  when  he  could  spare  a  few 
moments  at  the  grated  window,  from  the  labours  of  his 
pen  and  pincers.  But  it  was  not  often  he  could  do  so. 
He  had  to  work  hard  with  his  Pincers,  in  order  to  tag  the 
Stay-laces  which  his  wife  and  his  poor  hlind  daughter  made 
and  sold  for  the  support  of  the  family.  He  had  also  to 
study  hard,  in  order  to  bring  his  Writings  up  to  something 
like  the  scheme  and  scale  of  other  Theologians.  His  pen 
was  thus  heavier  to  him  than  his  pincers  ;  for  he  had 
nothing  to  lighten  its  labour  but  his  Concordance.  When 
he  did  escape,  however,  from  his  chair  to  the  window,  he 
was  all  eye  and  ear  to  whatever  was  stirring  in  the  heavens 
above,  or  in  the  waters  beneath.  And  if  nothing  presented 
itself  outside  the  window,  he  could  learn  much  from  the 
spiders  and  flies  inside.     It  was  whilst  watching  them  one 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  403 

day,  that  he  drew  the  striking  picture  of  an  entangled  and 
struggling  Christian. 

"  The  fly  in  the  spider's  web,*'  he  says,  "  is  an  emblem 
of  a  soul,  which  Satan  is  trying  to  poison  and  kill.  The 
fly  is  entangled  in  the  web.  At  this, — the  spider  sheivs 
himself!  If  the  fly  stir  again, — down  comes  the  spider, 
and  claps  a  foot  upon  her.  If  the  fly  struggle  still, — he 
poisons  her  more  and  more.  What  shall  the  fly  do  now  ? 
Why,  she  dies,  if  somebody  do  not  quickly  release  her. 
This  is  the  case  with  the  Tempted.  Their  feet  and  wings 
are  entangled.  Now,  Satan  shews  himself.  If  the  soul 
struggleth,  Satan  laboureth  to  hold  it  down.  If  it  maketh 
a  noise,  then  he  bites  with  a  blasphemous  mouth,  more 
poisonous  than  the  gall  of  a  serpent.  If  it  struggle  again, 
he  then  poisons  it  more  and  more ;  insomuch,  that  it  must 
needs  die,  if  the  Lord  Jesus  help  not.  But  though  the  fly 
is  altogether  incapable  of  lookiyig  for  relief,  this  tempted 
Christian  is  not.  What  must  he  do  therefore  ?  If  he  look 
to  his  heart,  there  is  blasphemy.  If  he  look  to  his  duties, 
there  is  sin.  Shall  this  man  lie  down  in  despair?  No. 
Shall  he  trust  in  his  duties?  No.  Shall  he  stay  away 
from  Christ  until  his  heart  is  better  ?  No  !  What  then  ? 
Let  him  look  to  Christ  crucified !  Then  shall  he  see  his 
Sins  answered  for,  and  Death  dying.  This  sight  destroys 
the  power  of  the  first  temptation,  and  both  purifies  the 
mind,  and  inclines  the  heart,  to  all  good  things." —  Woi'ks, 
vol.  iv.  p.  2340.  Thus,  if  Bunyan  built  the  Interpreter's 
House  by  spiritualizing  the  Temple,  he  interpreted  the 
sights  in  that  House  by  making  the  most  and  the  best  of 
what  he  saw  in  his  own  cell. 

Bunyan  was  so  pleased  with  this  parallel  between 
Satan  and  a  Spider,  that  away  went  Pincers  and  Laces, 
until  he  rhymed  the  fact.  He  makes  the  Spider 
say, 

"  Thus  in  my  ways,  God,  wisdom  doth  conceal, 
And  by  my  ways,  that  wisdom  I  reveal. 


404  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

I  hide  myself,  when  I  for  flies  do  wait ; 
So  dotli  the  Devil,  when  he  lays  his  bait. 
If  I  do  fear  the  losing  of  my  prey, 
I  stir  me,  and  more  snares  upon  her  lay. 
This  way,  and  that,  her  wings  and  legs  I  tie, 
That  sure  as  she  is  catched,  so  she  must  die. 
And  if  I  see  she's  like  to  get  away, 
Then,  with  my  venom,  I  her  journey  stay." 

Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  964-. 

Bunyan  studied  and  talked  with  this  Spider  so  much  at 
the  window,  that  it  became  a  favourite  with  him  at  last. 
He  abuses  it  in  *'  g-ood  set  terms,"  through  half  a  long 
poem ;  but  it  taught  him  so  much  sound  wisdom,  that  he 
withdrew  his  sarcasms,  and  sang, 

"  Well,  my  Good  Spider,  I  my  errors  see ; 
I  was  a  fool  in  railing  thus  at  thee. 
Thy  nature,  venom,  and  thy  fearful  hue. 
But  shew  what  Sinners  are,  and  what  they  do. 
Well,  well,  I  will  no  more  be  a  derider, 
I  did  not  look  for  such  things  from  a  Spider. 
O  Spider,  I  have  heard  thee,  and  do  wonder, 
A  Spider  thus  should  lighten,  and  thus  thunder. 

0  Spider,  thou  delight'st  me  with  thy  skill, 

1  pray  thee  spit  this  venom  at  me  still  I" 

It  was  not  without  reason  he  thus  ended  with  high  com- 
pliments to  his  iveb-iveaving  neighbour  :  for  he  studied  her 
habits  and  instincts,  until  he  found  her  to  be  the  best 
philosopher  he  had  ever  met  with.  He  has  not,  in  fact, 
written  any  thing  more  ingenious  or  profound,  in  one 
sense,  than  his  poem  of  **  The  Sinner  and  the  Spider." 

It  is  delightful  to  find,  that  neither  the  dust  nor  the 
bars  of  his  prison  window  could  prevent  Bunyan  from 
enjoying  sun-rise.  He  had  often  sat  under  its  first  rosy 
light,  reading  Luther  and  the  Bible,  whilst  a  wandering 
Tinker ;  and  when  a  prisoner,  he  could  welcome  the  Sun 
thus, 

"  Look  yonder  !  O,  raethinks,  mine  eyes  do  see 
Clouds  edged  with  silver,  as  fine  garments  be  ! 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  405 

They  look  as  if  they  saw  thy  golden  face, 

That  makes  black  clouds  most  beautiful  with  grace. 

Unto  the  Saints'  sweet  incense  of  their  prayer, 

These  smoky  curling  clouds,  I  do  compare  ; 

For  as  these  clouds  seem  edged  or  laced  with  gold, 

Their  prayers  return,  with  blessings  manifold." 

Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  963. 

All  weathers  were  not  alike  to  the  prisoner.  He  felt 
the  iveight  of  a  close  or  damp  atmosphere.  It  made  him 
so  nervous  in  his  cell,  that  he  was  often  ready,  he  says, 
"  to  start  and  tremble  at  his  own  shadow "  on  the  walls 
and  the  floor.  He  could,  however,  turn  all  weathers  to 
account.  On  one  **  lowring  morning,"  he  laid  aside  his 
pincers,  and  wrote  thus  ; — 

'  Well,  with  the  day,  I  see  the  clouds  appear, 
And  mix  the  light  with  darkness  every  where. 
This  threatens  those  who  on  long  journeys  go, 
That  they  shall  meet  with  slobby  rain  or  snow. 
Else,  while  I  gaze,  the  sun  doth  with  his  beams 
Belace  the  clouds,  as  'twere  Avith  bloody  streams. 
Then,  suddenly,  these  clouds  do  watery  grow, 
And  weep,  and  pour  their  tears  out,  as  they  go. 
Thus  'tis  when  Gospel-Light  doth  usher  in 
To  us,  both  sense  of  grace,  and  sense  of  sin ; 
And  when  it  makes  sin  red  with  Jesu's  blood. 
Then  we  can  weep  till  weeping  does  us  good  /" 

Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  959. 

Except  Bunyan  attempted  to  write  poetry  before  he  was 
a  prisoner, — of  which  I  have  found  no  proof — he  seems  to 
have  seen  from  his  window,  in  the  bed  of  the  River,  a 
brig-ht  stone,  which  interested  him,  and  at  length  instructed 
him.  The  following  lines  prove,  at  least,  that  he  could 
"  find  sermons  in  stones,  and  books  in  running  brooks, 
and  good  in  every  thing." 

"  This  flint,  time  out  of  mind,  hath  there  abode, 
Where  crystal  streams  make  their  continual  road  ; 
Yet  it  abides  a  flint  as  much  as  'twere 
Before  it  touched  the  water,  or  came  there. 


406  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Its  hardness  is  not  in  the  least  abated, 

'Tis  not  at  all  by  water  penetrated. 

Though  water  hath  a  softening  virtue  in't, 

It  can't  dissolve  the  stone  ;  for  'tis  a  flint. 

Yea,  though  in  the  water  it  doth  still  remain, 

\is  fiery  nature,  it  doth  still  retain. 

If  you  oppose  it  with  its  opposite, 

Then  in  your  very  face,  its  fire  will  spit. 

This  flint  an  emblem  is  of  those  that  lie 

Under  the  Word,  like  stones,  until  they  die : 

Its  crystal  streams  do  not  their  nature  change, 

They  are  not  from  their  lusts  by  Grace  estranged." 

Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  958. 

I  have  mentioned  Bunyan*s  Sand-Glass. — He  could  not 
be  so  playful  with  it  as  with  his  Rose,  or  with  his  Spider. 
It  had  measured  too  many  sad  and  slow  hours,  to  sugg-est 
any  but  solemn  thoughts.  Its  sands  were  never  golden, 
nor  too  swift,  but  when  his  Great  Works  were  in  hand ; 
and  then,  he  had  no  time  to  count  them.  But  when  he 
did  count  them,  it  was  done  like  himself. 

"  This  Glass,  when  made,  was,  by  the  Workman's  skill, 
The  sum  of  sixty  minutes  to  fulfil. 
Time,  more  or  less,  by  it  will  not  be  spun  ; 
But  just  an  hour,  and  then  its  sands  are  run. 
Man's  life,  we  will  compare  unto  this  Glass. 
The  number  of  his  months  he  cannot  pass." 

Works,  vol.  ii,  p.  976. 

Bunyan  must  have  been  not  a  little  pleased,  at  times, 
with  his  own  poetry,  although  it  cost  much  labour.  And, 
no  wonder ;  for  it  is  sometimes  very  happy.  No  one  has 
ever  sung  "  The  Fly  and  the  Candle  "  better  than  he  did. 
True,  he  could  ill  afford  to  have  his  small  candles  set 
a  running  by  flies.  They  wasted  too  soon  of  themselves, 
and  were  always  too  few  for  his  purpose.  He  scolds  the 
Fly,  however,  in  the  gentlest  terms  he  well  could. 

"  What  ails  this  Fly,  thus  desperately  to  enter 
A  combat  with  the  Candle?     Will  she  venture 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  407 

To  clash  at  Light  ?     Away,  thou  silly  Fly  ! 

Thus  doing,  thou  wilt  burn  thy  wings  and  die. 

But  'tis  a  folly — her  advice  to  give : 

She'll  kill  the  Candle  ;  or,  she  will  not  live. 

'  Slap  !'  says  she,  'at  it !'     Then  she  makes  retreat. 

So  wheels  about,  and  doth  her  blows  repeat. 

Nor  doth  the  Candle  let  her  quite  escape, 

But  gives  some  little  check  unto  the  Ape : 

Throws  up  her  nimble  heels,  till  down  she  falls 

Where  she  lies  sprawling,  and  for  succour  calls. 

When  she  recovers,  up  she  gets  again. 

And  at  the  Candle  comes,  with  might  and  main  I 

But  now,  behold  the  Candle  takes  the  Fly, 

And  holds  her  till  she  doth,  by  burning,  die !" 

Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  976. 

But  it  is  time  to  draw  this  long  Chapter  to  a  close, 
although  it  certainly  has  not  been  made  long  for  the  sake 
of  length  ;  but  that  we  may  see  how  Bunyan  diversified 
his  literary  pursuits ;  and  thus  realize  his  very  position 
and  spirit  whilst  he  was  thinking  for  the  World,  and 
writing  for  all  Time.  In  fact,  nothing  but  such  quotation 
as  I  have  indulged  in,  could  explain  the  plodding  habits  of 
such  a  mind  as  Bunyan's.  He  could  not  have  worked  out 
his  Theological  System,  through  the  medium  of  a  Con- 
cordance, without  the  reliefs  he  found  in  rhyming  and 
spiritualizing.  These  were  both  air  and  exercise  to  his 
mind,  after  being  long  bent  at  hard  study.  It  was  by 
giving  play  to  his  fancy,  and  by  indulging  the  whims  of 
his  taste,  when  tired  of  pondering,  that  he  kept  his  under- 
standing so  clear,  and  his  judgment  so  cool.  In  a  word, 
it  was  by  having  *'  so  many  irons  in  the  fire  at  once,"  and 
by  humouring  the  inclination  of  the  moment  in  the  selec- 
tion of  one,  that  he  wrought  them  all  so  well. 

I  have  included  his  Book  of  Martyrs  amongst  his  iew 
comforts  in  prison,  although  he  himself  does  not  name  it 
along  with  his  Bible  and  Concordance.  There  are,  how- 
ever, references  to  it  in  some  of  his  Works  written  in 
prison,  which  indicate  its  presence  there.     There  is  also  a 


408  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

quotation  from  it  in  his  "  House  of  the  Forest  of  Lebanon," 
too  long  and  accurate  to  be  made  from  memory.  One  of 
his  own  signatures  also  in  it,  bears  date  in  1662.  It  must^ 
therefore,  have  been  in  prison  with  him. 

I  cannot  close  this  Chapter,  without  bringing  up  again, 
the  interesting  fact,  that  Bunyan  retained  and  cherished 
all  his  love  of  Nature,  even  when  most  shut  out  from  the 
sight  of  the  heavens  and  the  earth.  To  his  sanctified 
imagination.  Nature  had  been  a  Bethel  Ladder,  whilst  he 
was  a  prisoner  at  large :  and  when  he  was  in 

"  Durance  vile," 

and  could  see  only  a  step  or  two  of  that  Ladder  through 
his  bars,  his  spirit  sprung  out  upon  it  at  once.  I  must 
illustrate  this  fact.     He  exclaims,  at  sun-rise, 

"  Look,  look  !  brave  Sol  doth  peep  up  from  beneath ; — 
Shews  us  his  golden  face  ; — doth  on  us  breathe : 
Yea,  he  doth  compass  us  around  with  glories, 
Whilst  he  ascends  up  to  his  highest  stories, 
Where  he  his  Banner  over  us  displays, 
And  gives  us  light  !" 

Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  968. 

He  was  so  fond  of  sunlight,  as  well  as  scarce  of  Candles 
to  write  by,  that  he  remonstrated  with  the  sun  one  night 
thus, 

"  What,  hast  thou  run  thy  race  ?     Art  going  down  ? 
Why  as  one  angry,  dost  thou  fade  and  frown  ? 
Why  wrap  thy  head  with  clouds,  and  hide  thy  face, 
As  threatening  to  withdraw  from  us  thy  grace  ? 
O,  leave  us  not !     When  once  thou  hid'st  thy  head, 
Our  whole  horizon  will  be  overspread  ! 
Tell,  who  hath  thee  offended  ?     Turn  again  ! 
Alas,  too  late  !     Entreaties  are  in  vain." 

Works,  vol.  ii,  p.  971. 

His  prison  window  seems  to  have  commanded  the  view 
of  an  Orchard.  This  delighted  him,  although  it  must 
have  reminded  him  of  his  thievish  pranks  whilst  he  was  a 
sin-breeder  in  Elstow  and  Bedford. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  409 

"  A  comely  sight,  indeed,  it  is  to  see 
A  world  of  blossoms  on  an  apple-tree. 
Yet  far  more  comely  would  this  tree  appear, 
If  all  its  dainty  blossoms,  apples  were. 
But  how  much  more  might  one  upon  it  see, 
If  all  would  hang  there,  until  ripe  they  be  ? 
But  most  of  all  its  beauty  would  abound. 
If  all  that  ripened  were  but  truly  sound." 

Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  968. 

"  The  twittering  Swallow "  wheeling  around  the  prison, 
and  skimming  the  river,  did  not  escape  his  notice,  nor 
move  in  vain. 

"  This  pretty  Bird,  O,  how  she  flies  and  sings  ! 
But,  could  she  do  so,  if  she  had  not  witiffs  ? 
Her  wings  bespeak  mj  faith:   her  songs,  mj  peace  / 
When  I  believe  and  sing,  my  doubtings  cease." 

Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  959. 

Such  was  Bunyan's  spirit  in  prison  :  such  were  his 
sympathies,  associations,  longings,  and  amusements.  And 
those  who  sympathize  with  his  joys  and  sorrows,  whilst  an 
Ambassador  in  bonds,  and  an  Author  in  purpose,  v,'ill  not 
lau^h  at  my  attempts  to  get  and  give  a  sight  of  him. 
They  may  be  failures ;  but  they  have  been  efforts,  honestly 
and  patiently  made  ;  and  which,  perhaps,  no  one  else 
would  have  made,  unless  he  had  had  iJi07'e  in  view  than 
mere  biography,  and  other  than  literary  motives.  But 
whilst  I  have  forgotten  neither  of  these,  I  have  been 
chiefly  influenced  and  regulated  by  the  great  moral  lesson 
which  the  Life  and  Talents  of  Bunyan  teach.  I  want 
those  who  admire  the  Pilgrim,  and  marvel  at  "  The  Grace 
Abounding,"  to  study  the  whole  character  of  the  Author. 


3  & 


410  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

bunyan's  moral  philosophy. 

In  a  list  of  eminent  Protestant  Bishops,  lately  published  in 
Ireland  to  confront  the  Popish  Bench,  the  name  of  Bunyan 
appears  as  one  of  the  stars  of  the  British  Episcopate.  This 
may  be  an  Irish  hull,  but  it  is  not  a  moral  blunder.  Bishop 
Bunyan  was  the  Tinker's  first  title,  when  he  ceased  to  be 
a  tinker  ;  and  Whitefield  gave  currency  to  it  in  Ireland. 
In  this  way,  the  worthy  Clergyman  who  drew  up  the  list 
was  misled.  It  is,  however,  neither  a  mistake  nor  a 
misnomer  to  call  Bunyan  a  moral  Philosopher,  if  a  high 
relish  for  virtue,  and  a  deep  insight  into  its  elements  and 
excellence,  constitute  a  great  Moralist.  He  could  also 
apply ^  as  well  as  explain,  its  principles.  He  knew  human 
nature  as  well  as  divine  law.  He  was  both  a  mental  and 
moral  Philosopher ;  and  could  do  what  few  of  either  class 
have  ever  attempted, — close  with  the  consciences  of  his 
readers,  and  pursue  both  the  stubborn  and  the  treacherous 
through  all  the  labyrinths  of  resistance  and  evasion.  His 
genius,  like  the  magnetized  chariot  of  the  Chinese  em- 
peror, which  enabled  him  to  make  conquests  by  shewing 
him  in  what  direction  to  pursue  the  enemy,  both  fitted! 
and  inclined  Bunyan  to  fight  for  victory^  in  battling  with 
the  vicious  and  the  compromising.  This  cast  of  his  mind 
has  never  been  sufficiently  illustrated  or  noticed.  His{ 
Pilgrims  are,  indeed.  Ethics  in  motion  ; — Morals  in  action  ; 
but  they  are  so,  because  his  general  principles  were  pro- 
found, and  his  tact  and  insight  intuitive. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  411 

Nothing  is  more  disting-uishable  in  his  character,  than 
his  keen  discernment  of  "  the  beauties  of  Holiness."  He 
was  emphatically  "  of  quick  understanding  in  the  fear  of 
the  Lord."  No  painter  or  poet  ever  had  a  finer  eye  for 
the  beauties  and  sublimities  of  Nature,  than  he  had  for  the 
graces,  virtues,  and  proprieties  of  Christian  character.  He 
understood  them,  as  well  as  exemplified  them.  He  could 
define  or  depict  them  all  in  words,  as  well  as  imitate  them 
in  his  practice  and  spirit.  This  is  more  than  could  be 
expected  from  him,  when  his  education,  condition,  and 
associations  are  remembered.  For  even  when  these  became 
most  favourable  to  the  improvement  of  his  taste  and 
character,  they  did  not  amount  to  much  that  was  either 
inspiring  or  instructive  ;  nor  do  they  explain  his  moral 
discernment.  He  never  saw  good  Society,  in  the  con- 
ventional sense  of  that  phrase,  until  some  of  his  best 
treatises  on  the  "  things  which  are  pure,  lovely,  and  of 
good  report,"  were  written.  He  had  met,  indeed,  good 
men,  and  mixed  a  little  with  pious  families,  before  his  impri- 
sonment :  but  they  were  all  in  the  lower  ranks  of  life,  and 
more  influenced  in  their  virtues  by  the  rules  of  virtue, 
than  by  the  reasons  of  it.  I  mean,  that  they  had  more 
principle  than  sentiment,  or  more  conscience  than  taste,  in 
their  well-doing.  "  From  whence  then  had  this  man 
knowledge"  of  the  foundations,  refinements,  and  secrets 
of  high-toned  morals  and  courtesy  ? 

Now  it  is  certain  that  Bunyan  did  not  learn  general 
principles  from  ethical  books.  He  had  none  to  consult ; 
except  Bishop  Fowler's  "  Design  of  Christianity,"  can  be 
considered  such  ;  and  he  hated  its  theology  too  much,  to 
admire  its  ethics.  Besides,  he  had  written  his  Pilgrim 
before  he  read  that  book ;  and  there  he  had  evinced  both 
his  knowledge  and  tact  as  a  Moralist,  as  well  as  a  divine. 
This  remark  applies  equally  to  his  acquaintance  with  some 
of  the  writings  of  Campian  the  Jesuit,  and  William  Ponn. 
He  read  them   in    1671,  in  order  to  prove   that  Fowler 


412  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

*'  falleth  in  with  the  Quakers  and  Romanists  against  the 
10th,  11th,  and  IStli  of  the  Thirty-Nine  Articles  of  the 
Church  of  England." 

As  Bimyan  had  no  books  in  prison,  from  which  he 
could  derive  his  profound  and  delicate  views  of  the  beauty 
of  Holiness,  so  he  had  no  instructive  companions  in  it. 
He  had  examples  of  personal  holiness  before  him  there,  in 
his  brethren  and  companions  in  tribulation ;  but  no  moral 
Philosophers,  that  we  know  of.  Wheeler  and  Dunn  were 
good  men ;  but  not  Masters  in  Israel.  Besides,  even  if 
there  were,  now  and  then,  some  men  of  learning  and  talent 
amongst  the  Nonconformist  prisoners  in  Bedford  Jail, 
Bunyan  had  proved  himself  a  philosopher  whilst  he  was  a 
Tinker.  He  made  Edward  Burroughs  feel  this,  when  he 
reduced  all  his  sophisms  about  the  Inward  Light,  to 
absurdities.  The  Quaker  found  that  he  had  a  Metaphy- 
sician to  deal  with,  and  therefore  called  him  a  liar.  In 
like  manner.  Dr.  Fowler,  whilst  he  affected  to  despise  him, 
was  glad  to  shelter  himself  from  Bunyan's  generalizing 
logic,  under  Baxter's  special  pleading.  Baxter,  indeed, 
defended  the  Work  better  than  its  author  did :  but  Bunyan 
foiled  them  both  on  the  question  of  Justification  by  Faith. 
This  would  be  no  great  achievement  now ;  but  it  was  a 
victory  then. 

We  are  thus  shut  up  to  the  Bible,  for  the  origin  of 
Bunyan's  pure  taste  and  general  principles ;  and  never 
was  there  a  finer  illustration  or  proof  of  its  being  "  able  to 
furnish  the  man  of  God,  thoroughly,  unto  every  good 
work  and  word."  Its  one  maxim, — "  Let  every  one 
that  nameth  the  Name  of  Christ  depart  from  iniquity," — 
became  in  Bunyan's  hands  a  perfect  system  of  Moral 
Philosophy ;  embracing  at  once  the  principles  and  details 
of  duty. 

"  The  design  of  this  exhortation,"  he  says,  "  was,  and 
is,  that  naming  the  Name  of  Christ  should  be  accompanied 
with  such  a  life  of  holiness,  as  shall  put  additional  lustre 


LIFE    OF    BUN Y AN.  413 

upon  that  Name,  whenever  it  is  named  in  a  religious  way." 
Such  a  lustre  he  himself  determined  to  shed  upon  the 
name  of  Christ.  *'  For  my  part,"  he  says,  "  I  had  rather 
be  a  pattern  and  example  of  piety ;  rather  my  life  should 
be  instructing  to  the  saints,  and  condemning  to  the  world, 
with  Noah  and  Lot,  than  hazard  myself  amongst  the 
multitude  of  the  drossy.  I  know  that  many  professors 
will  fall  short  of  eternal  life ;  and  my  judgment  tells  me 
they  will  be  of  the  slovenly  sort,  that  so  do :  and  for  my 
part,  I  had  rather  run  with  i\ie  foremost,  and  win  the  prize, 
than  come  behind,  and  lose  my  labour.  Not  that  works 
do  save  us :  but  faith  which  layeth  hold  of  Christ's  right- 
eousness for  Justification,  sanctifieth  the  heart,  and  makes 
men  desirous  to  live  in  this  world  to  the  glory  of  that 
Christ  who  died  to  save  us  from  death." 

This  was  his  mode  of  applying  the  maxim  to  himself. 
And  he  exemplified  it  so,  that  he  could  look  round  where- 
ever  he  had  "  gone  preaching  the  Gospel,"  and  say, 
without  faultering  or  blushing,  "  For  my  part,  I  doubt  the 
faith  of  many ;  and  fear  that  it  will  prove  no  better  than 
the  faith  of  devils,  in  the  day  of  God :  for  it  standeth  in 
bare  speculation,  and  is  without  life  and  soul  to  that  which 
is  good.  For  where  is  the  man  that  walketh  with  the 
Cross  on  his  shoulder  ?  Where  is  the  man  zealous  of 
moral  holiness?  For  those  things,  indeed,  which  have 
nothing  of  the  cross  of  the  purse — or  the  cross  of  the  belly 
— or  the  cross  of  the  back—  or  the  cross  of  the  vanity  of 
hoiiseJiold  affairs,  I  find  many  busy  sticklers  :  but  self- 
denial,  charity,  purity  in  life  and  conversation,  are  almost 
turned  quite  out  of  doors  amongst  professors.  But,  Man 
of  God,  do  thou  be  singular  I  Singularity  in  godliness,  if 
it  be  in  godliness,  no  man  should  be  ashamed  of.  Holiness 
is  a  rare  thing  now  in  the  world.  Did  we  but  look  back 
to  the  Puritans,  and  especially  to  those  that  suffered  for 
the  Word  of  God  in  the  Marian  days,  we  should  see 
another  life  than  is  now  among  men.    But  hope  to  be  with 


414  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Christ  hereafter,  will  make  me  strive  to  be  like  liini  here. 
Hope  of  being  with  Angels  then,  should  make  a  man 
strive  to  live  like  an  Angel  here.  Alas,  alas,  there  is  a 
company  of  half-priests  in  the  world,  and  they  cannot,  dare 
not,  teach  the  people  the  whole  counsel  of  God.  Where 
is  that  minister  to  be  found  now,  that  dare  say  to  his 
people,  *  look  on  me,  and  walk  as  ye  have  me  for  an 
example  V  " 

It  is  needless  to  say,  that  Bunyan  was  not  boasting,  when 
he  spoke  thus  of  himself.  He  was  emphatically  a  humble 
man,  although  proverbially  a  holy  man.  The  fact  is,  he 
wanted  to  stand  committed  and  pledged  before  the  world, 
to  he  all  that  he  professed.  He  had  also  a  deep  convic- 
tion, that  peculiar  times  required  "  a  peculiar  people, 
zealous  of  good  works."  "  I  have  often  thought,"  he  said 
on  his  death-hed,  "  that  the  best  Christians  are  found  in 
the  worst  times."  This  led  him  (strange  as  it  may  appear!) 
to  regret  that  he  had  not  been  "  counted  worthy  to  suffer  " 
more  for  the  name  of  Christ.  Hence  he  said  also,  on  his 
death-bed,  "  I  have  thought  again,  that  one  reason  why  we 
are  not  better,  is,  because  God  purges  us  no  more  (by  the 
furnace).  Noah  and  Lot ; — who  so  holy  as  they,  in  the 
time  of  their  affliction  ?  And  yet,  who  so  idle  as  thev,  in 
the  time  of  their  prosperity  ?"  Bunyan's  views  on  the 
subject  of  suffering  for  Christ's  sake,  deserve  the  highest 
veneration.  They  ought  not  to  be  confounded  with  the 
thirst  of  Polycarp  for  martyrdom,  or  with  the  longings  of 
Whitefield  and  Wesley  for  the  scorn  of  the  world.  Bunyan 
was  wiser  than  the  latter  in  early  life,  and  than  the  former 
in  old  age.  "  It  is  not  every  suffering,"  he  says,  "  that 
makes  a  man  a  martyr ;  but  suffering  for  the  word  of  God 
after  a  right  manner :  that  is,  not  only  for  righteousness, 
but  for  righteousness'  sake  ;  not  only  for  truth,  but  out  of 
love  to  truth ;  not  only  for  God's  Word,  but  accordifig  to 
it ;  viz.,  in  that  holy,  humble,  meek  manner,  the  Word  of 
God  requireth.     It  is  a  rare  thing  to  suffer  aright ;   (or  so 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  415 

as)  to  have  my  spirit,  in  suffering,  bent  against  God's 
enemy.  Sin : — sin  in  doctrine,  sin  in  worship,  sin  in  life, 
and  sin  in  conversation." — Death  Bed  Sayings.  Dr. 
Sonthey  stated  a  great  truth,  although  Bunyan  was  not 
the  man  to  connect  it  with,  when  he  said,  "  Nothing  is 
more  certain  than  that  the  gratification  which  a  resolute 
spirit  feels  in  satisfying  its  conscience,  exceeds  all  others. 
This  feeling  (however)  is  altogether  distinct  from  that 
peace  of  mind  which,  under  all  afflictions,  abides  in  the 
regenerate  heart :  nor  is  it  so  safe  a  feeling ;  for  it 
depends  too  much  upon  excitement ;  and  the  exaltation 
and  triumph  it  produces  are  akin  to  pride." — Life,  p.  QQ. 
This  is  true :  but  Bunyan  is  neither  a  proof  nor  an  illus- 
tration of  its  truth.  Dr.  Southey  goes  deep  into  the  heart 
here :  but  Bunyan  (we  have  seen)  went  deeper. 

But  whilst  he  cherished  both  solemn  and  sublime  views 
of  personal  holiness,  and  was  sentimental  as  well  as  con- 
scientious in  his  love  to  holiness,  he  was  no  visionary,  nor 
theoretical  perfectionist.  He  distinguishes  wisely,  between 
indwelling  sin,  and  outstanding  iniquities.  "  The  nature 
and  being  of  sin  in  us,  cannot  be  so  plucked  out  up  by  the 
roots,  and  cast  clean  away  from  us,  as  to  have  no  stirring 
in  us.  (Indwelling)  sin  is  one  of  the  most  quick  and 
brisk  things,  and  ivill  have  motions  according  to  its  life. 
It  is  impossible  to  separate  ourselves  from  our  persons ; 
yet  we  should  withdraw  our  minds  and  affections  from  sin 
within  us.  A  man  may  thus  depart  from  that,  which  will 
not  depart  from  him.  Yea,  a  man  may,  in  mind,  depart 
from  that  which  yet  will  dwell  with  him  so  long  as  he  lives. 
For  instance,  there  are  many  diseases  cleave  to  men,  from 
which,  in  their  minds,  they  willingly  depart.  Yea,  their 
greatest  disquietment  is,  that  so  bad  a  distemper  will  abide 
by  them.  Might  they  have  their  own  desire,  they  would 
be  as  far  from  it  as  the  evids  of  the  earth  are  asunder. 
Even  whilst  they  continue  together,  the  mind  departs  from 
it,   and  is  gone  to   God   or   to  physicians    for  help   and 


416  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

deliverance  from  it.  And  thus  it  is  with  the  saint :  with 
his  mind  he  serves  the  law  of  God,  and  departs  from  all 
iniquity." — Works,  vol.  iii.  p.  1369. 

Thus  Bunyan  thought  and  wrote,  years  before  Dr. 
Owen  published  his  work  on  Indwelling  Sin.  That  Work 
came  out  in  the  year  Bunyan  died.  But  he,  like  Owen, 
could  search  the  heart  as  "  with  lighted  candles,"  on  this 
subject.  In  answer  to  the  question,  how  may  I  know  that 
I  depart  from  the  iniquity  which  is  in  my  flesh,  he  says, 
"  How  is  iniquity  in  thine  eye,  when  severed  from  the  guilt 
and  punishment  that  attend  it  ?  Is  it,  as  separate  from 
these,  beauteous,  or  zYZ-favoured  ?  I  ask  thee,  how  it  looks 
— how  thou  likest  it,  supposing  there  were  no  guilt  or 
punishment  attending  the  commission  of  it  ?  For  if  in  its 
own  nature  it  be  desirable  to  thy  mind,  thou  art  like  the 
thief  that  refuseth  to  take  his  neighbour's  horse,  not  from 
hatred  of  theft,  but  for  fear  of  the  gallows.  Again ;  how 
dost  thou  like  thyself,  as  possessed  of  a  body  of  sin  ?  Doth 
this  yield  thee  a  kind  of  secret  sweetness  ?  There  is 
nothing  more  odious  to  a  sanctified  mind !  It  makes  a 
good  man  blush  and  abhor  himself.  How  look  thy  duties 
in  thine  eyes  ?  They  catch  the  stain  of  sin  as  coming  from 
thee.  Art  thou,  through  the  ignorance  that  is  in  thee, 
unaffected  with  this  ?  Again ;  why  wouldst  thou  go  to 
heaven  ?  Because  it  is  a  holy  place,  or  because  it  is 
remote  from  the  pains  of  hell  ?" 

Bunyan  was  practiced  as  well  as  penetrating,  on  this 
subject.  "  There  are,"  he  says,  "  occasions  given,  and 
occasions  taken  to  sin  against  the  Lord  Jesus ;  and  a  good 
man  will  depart  from  both.  He  that  hath  set  himself  to 
depart  from  sin  in  himself,  will  not  seek  occasions  abroad 
to  sin.  There  may  be  occasions  where  there  are  no 
examples.  He  that  hankers  after  enticings  and  opportu- 
nities, is  not  departing  from  iniquity.  Departing  from  it 
is  not  the  work  of  an  hour,  or  a  day,  or  a  week,  or  a 
month,  or  a  year :  but  it  is  the  work  of  a  lifetime,  and 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  417 

there  is  greatness  and  difficulty  in  it.  With  many,  it  is 
like  the  falling-  out  of  two  neighbours  :  they  hate  each 
other  for  a  while,  and  then  renew  their  friendship  again. 
But  remember, — that  a  profession  is  not  worth  a  phiy  ii 
they  that  make  it  depart  not  from  iniquity." — Woi'ks, 
vol.  iii.  p.  1472. 

It  would  be  a  mistake  to  suppose,  from  the  bluntness 
of  these  illustrations,  that  Bunyan  dealt  only  in  pithy 
maxims,  when  inculcating  pure  morals.  He  could  and 
did  embellish,  as  well  as  explain  and  expostulate.  The 
beautiful  ideal  of  Holiness  was  equally  familiar  to  his 
thoughts,  and  frequently  on  his  lips.  What  could  be  more 
exquisitely  chaste  and  lovely  than  his  comparison  of  a  holy 
Minister,  to  the  lily-wreathed  pillars  of  the  temple  ?  "A 
/^7^/-life  is  the  glory  of  an  Apostle.  Judas  had  none  of  this 
lily-work.  Even  covetousness  makes  a  Minister  smell 
frowish.  It  is  he  that  grows  as  a  lily,  that  shall  smell  as 
Lebanon,  and  have  his  beauty  as  the  Olive  tree.  It  is 
brave  when  the  world  is  made  to  say  of  the  lives  and 
conversation  of  saints,  as  they  were  made  to  say  of  the 
adorning  and  beauty  of  the  Temple,  '  What  manner  of 
stones  are  here?'  I  say,  it  is  brave,  when  our  light  so 
sh'nes  before  men,  that  they  are  forced  to  glorify  our 
Father,  which  is  in  heaven." — Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  1981. 

The  following  comparison  is  of  the  same  kind.  "It  is 
amiable  and  pleasant  to  God,  when  Christians  keep  their 
rank,  station,  and  relation,  doing  all  as  becomes  their 
quality  and  calling.  Wlien  they  stand  every  one  in  their 
places,  and  do  the  work  of  their  relation,  they  are  like 
flowers  in  the  garden,  that  grow  where  the  Gardener 
planted  them,  and  thus  do  him  and  it  honour."  "  From 
the  Hyssop  on  the  wall,  to  the  Cedar  on  Lebanon,  their 
fruit  is  their  glory.  And  seeing  the  Stock  into  which  we 
are  planted  is  the  fruitfuUest  Stock ;  and  the  sap  conveyed 
out  thereof,  the  fruitfuUest  sap  ;  and  the  Dresser,  the 
wisest  husbandman,— how  contrary  to  nature— to  example 
3h 


418  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

— to  expectation  should  we  be,  if  we  be  not  rich  in  good 
works!  Wherefore,  take  heed  of  being-  painted  fire, 
wherein  is  no  warmth  ;  and  painted  flowers,  which  retain 
no  smell  ;  and  painted  trees,  whereon  is  no  fruit." — 
Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  2092. 

It  would  not  be  easy  to  find  a  parallel  to  the  following 
illustration  of  the  mutual  influence  of  holy  Christians. 
"  Whilst  the  Doctrine  of  the  gospel  is  like  the  dew  and 
the  small  rain  which  distilleth  on  the  tender  herb, — 
Christians  are  like  the  several  flowers  in  a  garden,  that 
have  on  each  of  them  the  dew  of  Heaven,  which,  being 
shaken  by  the  wind,  they  let  fall  on  each  other's  roots ; 
whereby  they  are  nourished,  and  become  nourishers  of 
one  another.  For  to  communicate  savourly  to  each  other 
of  God's  matters,  is  as  if  they  opened  to  each  other's 
nostrils  Boxes  of  perfume." — Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  2119. 

When  Bunyan  had  such  visions  of  the  beauty  of 
Holiness  before  him,  the  ugliness  of  sin,  as  he  called  its 
deformity,  extorted  from  him  tremendous  rebukes  to 
drossy  professors.  *'  O  the  confusion  and  shame  that  will 
cover  their  faces,  when  God  is  discovering  to  them  what  a 
nasty,  uncomely,  unreasonable  life  they  have  led  in  the 
world !  They  will  blush  until  the  blood  is  ready  to  burst 
through  their  cheeks.  God  will  cover  with  shame  all  such 
bold  and  brazen  faces." — Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  ^'0%.  *'  Such 
a  professor  is  like  a  man  that  comes  out  of  a  Pest  House, 
with  all  his  plague-sores  running.  He  poisons  the  air 
around  him.  This  man  hath  the  breath  of  the  dragon.  He 
slays  his  children,  his  kinsmen,  his  friends,  and  himself.  I 
remember  Philpot  used  to  tell  the  Papists,  that  they  danced 
naked  in  a  net,  because  of  their  evil  ways :  and  the  Lord 
bids  professors  have  a  care,  the  shame  of  their  nakedness 
do  not  appear.  Whatever  they  may  think  of  themselves, 
they  are  seen  of  others." — Works,  vol.  iii.  p.  1391.  "  One 
black  sheep  is  quickly  espied  among  five  hundred  white 
ones  ;  and  one  mangy  sheep  will  soon  infect  many."— 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  419 

Works,  vol.  iii.  p.  1386.  "  Hypocrite!  even  the  ffain  of 
thy  religion,  thou  spendest  it  as  thou  gettest  it.  Thou 
wilt  not  have  one  farthing  overplus  at  death  and  judgment. 
Even  what  thou  hast,  thou  hast  stolen  it  from  thy  neighbour, 
like  Judas  from  the  bag.  Thou  earnest  as  a  thief  info  thy 
profession,  and  as  a  thief  thou  shalt  go  out  of  the  same. 
Jesus  Christ  hath  committed  to  thee  none  of  his  Jewels 
to  keep." — Works,  vol.  iii.  p.  1567.  "  Such  Professors 
pestered  the  Churches  of  old.  Who  on  earth  can  help  it  ? 
Jades  there  be,  of  all  colours  !  We  may  say  to  such,  as 
the  Prophet  spake  to  their  like,  *  Go  ye,  serve  every  man 
his  idol.*  Go,  Professors,  go  :  leave  off  profession.  Better 
never  profess,  than  make  profession  a  stalking-horse  to 
deceit,  sin,  the  devil,  and  hell.  A  Professor,  and  defraud  J 
Away  with  him.'* —  Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  893. 

But  whilst  Bunyan  thus  flung  false  Professors  to  the 
winds,  it  was  not  to  abandon  them.  This  may  easily  be 
supposed  from  his  Favourite  Sermon.  In  trying,  however, 
to  reclaim  them,  he  did  more  than  prove  that  there  was 
mercy  for  the  biggest  sinners.  His  maxim  was,  "  Let 
them  depart  from  their  Constitution-Sin,  or  if  you  will, 
the  sin  that  their  temper  most  inclines  them  to."  His 
plying  and  pleading  this  turning  point,  evince  his  phi- 
losophy. "  So  long  as  thy  constitution-sin  remains,  or  is 
winked  at,  thou  art  a  Hypocrite  before  God,  let  thy  pro- 
fession be  what  it  will.  If  a  man  will  depart  from  iniquity, 
he  must  depart  from  his  darling  sin  first :  for  as  long  as 
that  is  entertained,  others,  most  suiting  his  darling,  will 
always  be  haunting  him  There  is  a  man  that  has  such 
and  such  Haunters  of  his  house,  who  spend  his  substance. 
He  would  be  rid  of  them,  but  cannot.  But  now,  let  him 
rid  himself  of  that  for  which  they  haunt  his  house,  and  he 
shall  with  ease  be  rid  of  them.  Thus  it  is  with  sin.  There 
is  a  man  plagued  with  many  sins,  because  he  embraceth 
one.  Let  him  turn  that  one  out  of  doors.  That  is  the 
Avay  to  be  rid  of  the  rest.     The  casting  away  of  that,  is 


420  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

death  to  the  rest,  and  ordinarily  makes  a  change  through- 
out."—m?r^*,  vol.  iii.  p.  1394. 

This  is  the  real  philosophy  of  moral  reformation. 
Bimyan  knew  this,  and  scouted  all  compromise.  To  no 
maxim  did  he  give  more  currency  than  this, — "  Take  heed 
thou  deceive  not  thyself,  by  changing  one  bad  way  for 
another  bad  way.  This  was  a  trick  Israel  played  of  old  ; 
hopping  like  the  Squirrel  from  bough  to  bough,  but  not 
willing  to  forsake  their  tree.  Many  times  men  change 
their  darling  sins,  as  some  change  their  servants.  Hypocrisy 
would  do  awhile  ago,  but  now  debauchery.  Profaneness 
was  the  fashion,  but  now  a  deceitful  profession.  Take 
heed  thou  throw  not  away  thine  old  darling  for  a  neiv  one. 
Men's  tempers  alter.  Youth  is  for  pride  and  wantonness  : 
middle-age  for  cunning  and  craft :  old  age  for  the  world 
and  covetousness."  The  following  maxim  is  equally  pro- 
found. "  Take  heed  lest  thy  departing  from  iniquity  be 
but  for  a  time.  Persons  in  wrangling  fits  depart  from  each 
other ;  but  when  the  quarrel  is  over,  by  means  of  some 
intercessor,  they  are  reconciled  again.  O,  Satan  is  the 
intercessor  between  the  soul  and  sin !  The  breach  may 
seem  irreconcileable ;  but  he  can  make  up  the  difference 
between  them.  There  is  danger  in  this.  The  height  of 
danger  is  in  it !  He  makes  use  of  those  sins  again  which 
jump  with  the  temper  of  thy  soul.  These  are,  as  I  may 
call  them,  thy  master-sins.  They  suit  thy  temper.  These, 
as  the  little  end  of  a  wedge,  enter  with  ease,  and  so  make 
way  for  those  which  come  after ;  with  which,  Satan  knows 
he  can  rend  thy  soul  in  pieces." — Worksy  vol.  iii.  p.  1395. 
It  was  not  merely  by  exposing  the  deceitfulness  of  sin 
or  the  wiles  of  the  devil,  however,  that  Bunyan  fought  the 
battles  of  Holiness.  He  strove  equally  to  define  and 
endear,  one  by  one,  the  virtues,  graces,  and  duties  of 
christian  character.  He  was  emphatically  a  Family  In- 
structor. Whilst  allowed  to  preach,  he  taught  from  house 
to  house,  that  "  God  sees  iviiliin  doors  as  well  as  without^ 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  421 

and  will  judge  the  iniquity  of  the  house  as  well  as  that 
which  is  more  open :"  and  when  he  could  only  write,  he 
tore  the  roofs  off  ill  managed  houses,  as  it  were,  to  make 
them  ashamed  of  their  "  hugger-mugger  iniquity,"  as  he 
calls  family  sins.  Bunyan*s  maxim,  like  Philip  Henry's, 
was,  "  What  a  man  is  at  Home,  that  he  is  indeed.  My 
house  and  my  closet  shew  most  what  I  am,  to  my  Family 
and  to  the  Angels,  though  not  to  the  world." —  Works,  vol. 
iii.  p.  1400.  "  The  Husband  that  carrieth  it  indiscreetly  to 
his  wife,  doth  not  only  behave  himself  contrary  to  the  rule, 
but  also  crosseth  the  mystery  of  the  relation.  Be  such  a 
husband,  that  thy  wife  may  say,  '  He  preacheth  to  me 
every  day  the  carriage  of  Christ  to  his  Church.'  If  thy 
wife  be  unbelieving  or  carnal,  thou  art  under  a  double 
obligation  to  do  so  j  for  she  lieth  liable  every  moment  to 
eternal  danger.  If  she  behave  herself  unseemly  and 
unruly,  being  graceless  and  Christless,  then  labour  thou 
to  overcome  her  evil  with  thy  goodness ;  her  frowardness 
by  thy  patience  and  meekness.  It  is  a  shame  for  thee, 
who  hast  another  principle,  to  do  as  she !  Let  all  be  done 
without  rancour,  or  the  least  appearance  of  anger." — Worhs, 
vol.  iv.  p.  2103.  Bunyan  goes  so  far,  and  so  minutely,  into 
conjugal  duty,  in  his  treatise  on  '  Christian  Behaviour,' 
that  he  seems  to  have  had  a  public  reason  for  speaking  so 
explicitly.  There  is,  of  course,  always  too  much  reason 
for  enforcing  this  duty  :  but  it  so  happened  that,  in  1657, 
his  Brethren  had  discussed  at  the  Association,  the  question, 
*'  Whether  a  man  in  any  case  of  ruling  over  his  wife,  may 
lawfully  strike  her?"  Their  decision  on  this  cardinal 
point  was,  **  He  ought  to  preserve  the  point  of  Rule,  if  it 
may  be,  without  striking;  that  having  no  precept  nor 
example  in  Holy  Scripture." — Tiverton  Minutes.  Signed, 
Thos.  Collier  !  I  need  neither  say  that  Bunyan  was  no 
party  in  this  discussion,  nor  that  the  decision  was  too  cold 
and  equivocal  for  his  taste  ;  and  I  will  not  say,  that  he 
struck  at  this  fact.      He  did,  however,  strike  hard  blows  at 


422 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


some  of  the  Resolutions  of  the  Western  Association,  as  I 
shall  have  occasion  to  shew,  and  as  they  richly  deserved. 
Bunyan  had,  however,  sturdy,  although  not  stern  notions 
of  the  Husband's  authority.  He  does  not  mince  the 
matter  of  obedience  or  subjection  on  the  part  of  a  wife ; 
but  he  puts  the  claim  well.  He  does  more  than  say,  "  it 
is  odious  in  wives  to  be  like  parrots,  not  bridling"  their 
tongue :"  he  appeals  also  to  their  good  sense,  and  asks, 
"  Do  you  think  it  seemly  for  the  Church  to  parrot  it 
against  Her  husband  ?  The  wife  should  know,  as  I  said 
before,  that  her  Husband  is  her  Lord,  as  Christ  is  over  the 
Church.  And  now  I  say  also,  that  if  she  walk  with  her 
husband  as  becometh  her,  she  shall  preach  to  him  the 
obedience  of  the  Church.'*  This  is  the  great  general 
principle  on  which  Bunyan  reasons  and  remonstrates. 
But  he  knew  the  heart  as  well  as  the  Law,  and  said  to 
the  Ladies,  "  Now  for  the  right-timing  of  thy  intentions  ! 
Consider  thy  Husband's  disposition,  and  take  him  when  he 
is  farthest  off  from  the  passions  which  are  thy  afflictions. 
Abigail  would  not  speak  a  word  to  her  churlish  husband, 
until  his  wine  was  gone  from  him,  and  he  in  a  sober 
temper  again.  The  want  of  this  observation  is  the  cause 
why  so  much  is  spoken,  and  so  little  effected.  Take  him 
also  at  those  times,  when  he  is  most  taken  with  thee,  and 
when  he  sheweth  tokens  of  love  and  delight  in  thee.  Thus 
did  Esther  with  her  husband,  and  prevailed.  Take  heed 
also  that  what  thou  doest,  goes  not  in  thy  name,  but  his  ; 
not  to  thy  exaltation,  but  his  ;  carrying  all  things  so  by 
thy  dexterity  and  prudence,  that  not  one  of  thy  husband's 
weaknesses  be  discovered  to  others  by  thee.  Do  it,  and 
the  Lord  prosper  thee!" — Works^  vol.  iv.  p.  2108. 

If  all  this  be  not  moral  Philosophy,  it  is  something 
better.  It  certainly  comes  home  to  the  business  of  life, 
and  to  the  bosom  of  nature.  And  yet,  although  good,  it 
is  not  the  best  that  might  have  been  selected  from  Bunyan's 
Works :  for  my  object  has  been  rather  to  develop  his  mind 


LIFE    OF    BUNTAN.  423 

and  taste,  than  to  elucidate  his  Ethical  system.  As  a 
System,  worked  out  without  Books  or  Models,  or  any  but 
spiritual  Motives,  that  is  wonderful !  And  in  this  point 
of  view,  his  Theology  is  equally  so.  Of  him  only  is  it 
literally  true,  that  "  he  was  a  man  of  One  Book. " 
Accordingly,  in  enforcing  Morals,  he  is  not  afraid  to  go 
all  the  lengths  of  the  Bible,  in  proclaiming  the  reivards 
of  virtue.  He  can  crucify  Works  as  merit,  and  crown 
them  as  obedience,  with  an  equally  steady  and  impartial 
hand.  He  throws  the  best  of  them  into  the  bottomless  pit 
without  ceremony,  when  they  are  put  forward  as  a  claim 
for  mercy,  or  a  price  for  salvation ;  but  as  fruits  of  the 
Spirit,  and  as  conscientious  efforts  to  glorify  God,  he 
brings  them  out  at  Death  and  Judgment,  enshrined  with 
what  he  calls  "  a  spangling  reward."  "  A  dying  bed  is 
made  easg,'  he  says,  "  by  good  works."  "  An  unchristian 
walk  makes  it  as  uncomfortable,  as  if  the  man  lay  on 
nothing  but  the  cords  of  his  bed.  Mounts  Ebal  and 
Gerrizim^  I  take  to  be  a  type  of  the  Judgment.  He 
whom  mount  Ebal  smiteth,  misseth  heaven.  Mount 
Gerrizim  is  sure  to  bless  the  good  man.  He  shall  enter 
into  rest,  and  his  works  shall  follow  him." —  Woi-ksy  vol.  ii. 
p.  1106. 

I  need  not  add,  that  Bunyan  made  the  love  of  Christ 
the  motive  of  all  holy  obedience :  but  I  must  add  his  own 
illustration  of  this : — delight  in  holy  things,  wrought  by 
Redeeming  Love, 

"  Like  live-honey  runs, 
And  needs  no  pressing  from  the  honey-combs  I" 

Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  2648. 


421  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

BUNYAN*S    WIT. 

So  few  Specimens  of  Bunyan's  wit  have  obtained  currency, 
that  a  whole  Chapter  of  it  will  excite  surprise  at  first. 
And  yet  it  oug-ht  not.  The  man  must  have  been  not  a 
little  waggish  as  well  as  witty,  who  invented  such  happy 
names  for  the  Judge  and  Jury  that  tried  and  burnt 
Faithful,  at  Vanity  Fair.  Indeed,  most  of  the  names 
which  Bunyan  gives  to  recreant  or  pretended  Pilgrims, 
are  happy  Mts^  and  speak  volumes.  Many  of  the  characters 
in  his  Holy  War  also,  as  well  as  the  manoeuvres  of  it,  are 
rich  in  masterly  strokes  of  shrewdness  and  piquancy.  His 
coinage,  like  old  Fuller's  or  Donne's,  "  rings  like  good 
metal." 

It  is  not,  however,  upon  this  fund,  that  I  am  now  about 
to  draw.  I  merely  refer  to  it,  as  suggesting-,  if  not 
warranting,  the  idea,  that  he  who  struck  out  such  names 
and  characters  in  his  Allegories,  must  also  have  thrown 
out  in  his  other  writings,  and  in  conversation,  many  smart 
things.  This  has,  hitherto,  been  overlooked  :  owing, 
perhaps,  to  the  impression  left  upon  his  modern  Critics, 
by  the  gravity  ascribed  to  him  by  his  ancient  Biographers. 
The  latter  say,  *'  He  was  mild  and  affable  in  conversation ; 
not  given  to  loquacity,  or  much  discourse,  unless  some 
urgent  occasion  required.  It  was  observed,  he  never 
spoke  of  himself,  or  of  his  talents  ;  but  seemed  low  in  his 
own  eyes.     He  was  never  heard  to  reproach  or  revile  any. 


LIFE    OF    EUNYAN.  425 

whatever  injury  he  received  ;  but  rather  rebuked  those 
who  did  so.  It  is  well  known,  that  he  managed  all  things 
with  such  exactness,  as  if  he  had  made  it  his  study,  above 
all  other  things,  not  to  give  offence." 

After  this  account  of  his  temperament,  ivit  seems  out 
of  the  question  ;  and  humour,  a  contradiction  in  terms. 
Both  exist,  however,  where  they  would  never  be  suspected, 
except  by  a  reader  who  was  searching  for  them.  Besides, 
it  is  not  to  wit,  as  mere  waggery,  humour,  or  playfulness ; 
but  as  a  vein  of  point  and  power,  that  I  refer :  and,  unless 
I  mistake  that  vein  egregiously,  the  following  specimens  of 
it,  will  justify  the  title  of  this  Chapter ;  and  place  Bunyan 
before  the  world  in  a  light  equally  new  and  true.  I  must 
first,  however,  apply  a  stroke  of  his  own  wit  to  himself.  He 
says  that  the  thought  of  a  Surgeon  or  a  Bone-setter,  if  he 
have  a  hard  hearty,  or  fingers  like  iron^  can  make  us  quake 
for  fear  j  and  he  adds,  "  He  that  handleth  a  wound,  had 
need  have  fingers  like^^^^er*,  or  like  clown.  To  be  sure, 
the  Patient  wisheth  they  were  so !" — Vol.  i.  p.  157.  fol.  ed. 

Bunyan  did  not  always  recollect  his  own  maxim,  in 
handling  wounds.  His  heart  is  never  hard  ;  but  his  hand 
is  sometimes  rather  too  heavy.  It  was  not  iron  ;  but  its 
"  nails  were  as  Eagles*  claws,"  when  strict  Baptists,  or 
extravagant  Quakers,  came  under  it.  Then,  his  fingers 
are  not  feathers,  nor  his  thumbs  down.  They  are,  indeed. 
Porcupine's  quills,  whenever  Bigotry  or  Cant  falls  in  his 
way. 

When  the  strict  Baptists  assailed  Bunyan  for  admitting 
and  advocating  open  Communion,  they  told  him,  that 
"  some  of  the  sober  Independents "  disliked  his  Book  on 
that  subject.  He  archly  asked,  "  What  then?  I  can  say 
without  lying,  that  several  Baptists  have  wished  your  Book 
burnt,  before  it  had  come  to  light.  Is  your  Book  ever  the 
'worse  for  that  ?" 

"  The  sober  Dr.  Owen,"  as  he  calls  him,  had  promised 
to  write  "  an  Epistle^"  'n  favour  of  Bunyan's  liberal  views 

3i 


426  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN 

on  this  subject ;  but  afterwards  declined  to  do  so.  Bunyan 
was  publicly  twitted  with  this  "waiving"  on  the  part  of 
Owen.  He  nobly  and  promptly  replied,  "  What  if  the 
sober  Dr.  Owen,  though  he  told  me  and  others,  he  would 
write  an  epistle  to  my  book,  yet  waived  it  afterwards? 
This  also  is  to  my  advantage  ;  because  it  was  through  the 
earnest  solicitations  of  several  of  you^  that  his  hand  was 
stopped  at  that  time.  And,  perhaps,  it  was  more  for  the 
glory  of  God,  that  Truth  should  go  naked  into  the  world, 
than  seconded  by  so  mighty  an  armour-bearer." —  Works, 
vol.  iii.  p.  1257. 

When  Dr.  Fowler,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Bristol,  pub- 
lished his  work  on  "  The  Design  of  Christianity,"  he  gave 
this  challenge  to  the  advocates  of  the  great  principle  of 
the  Reformation — Justification  through  faith  in  Christ ; — 
"  What  pretence  can  there  be,  that  faith  is  the  condition 
or  instrument  of  justification,  as  it  complieth  only  with  the 
precepts  of  relying  on  Christ's  merits?  It  is  evident  as 
the  sun  at  noon  day,  that  obedience  to  the  other  precepts 
must  go  before  obedience  to  this ;  that  is,  before  faith  in 
Christ."  Bunyan  dryly  and  adroitly  answered, — "  This 
you  say  :  but  Paul  said  lo  the  ignorant  jailor,  who  knew 
nothing  of  the  mind  of  God  in  the  doctrine  of  Justifica- 
tion, that  he  should  y?r*#  believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
and  so  should  be  saved.  Again,  when  he  preached  unto 
the  Corinthians,  the  first  doctrine  he  delivered  unto  them 
was,  that  Christ  died  for  their  sins,  according  to  the 
Scriptures.'* 

Bunyan  did  not  treat  the  Dignitary  with  less  ceremony, 
on  this  occasion,  than  he  did  the  Sectaries,  who  made 
light  of  sin,  in  order  to  give  iveight  to  new-fangled 
notions  of  Redemption.  "  It  is  a  poor  shift,"  he  said, 
"  when  the  Enemies  of  Truth  are  forced  to  diminish  sin, 
and  to  enlarge  the  borders  of  their  Fig-leaf  garments  :  they 
thus  deny,  as  much  as  in  them  lies,  one  of  the  attributes 
of  God  ; — his  justice." — Works,  vol.  i.  p.  172.  fol.  ed. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  427 

Bunyan  could  employ  his  ignorance  dexterously,  as  well 
as  any  smattering  of  learning  he  had  picked  up,  when 
occasion  required.  On  one  occasion  the  strict  Baptists 
charged  him  with  using  against  them  the  very  "  arguments 
of  the  Paedo'Baptist :"  and  as  he  had  nothing  to  concede 
in  favour  of  infants,  and  nothing  to  retract  in  favour  of 
strict  Communionists,  he  slily  slipt  out  of  the  dilemma,  by 
saying  truly,  "  I  ingenuously  tell  you,  I  know  not  what 
Vjedo  means ;  and  how  then  should  I  know  his  argu- 
ments ?"  He  had  also  used  a  word  or  two  of  Latin 
(picked  up,  most  likely,  from  some  of  his  fellow  prisoners ; 
some  of  whom  were  scholars)  ;  for  which  Danvers  and 
Paul  (his  assailants)  had  "mocked"  him.  They  "took 
nothing  by  their  motion.'*  "  Though  you  mock  me  for 
speaking  a  word  in  Latin,  you  have  not  one  word  of  God 
that  commands  you  to  shut  out  your  Brethren  for  want  of 
water-baptism,  from  your  communion."  They  had  said, 
"  you  would  have  it  thought  that  you  go  away  with  the 
garland^  unless  we  bring  positive  Scriptures  that  your 
(plan)  is  forbidden."  Garland,  indeed :  unhappy  word 
for  them  !  Bunyan  knew  of  no  garlands  but  those  which 
the  priest  of  Jupiter  hung  around  the  necks  of  the  oxen  he 
wished  to  sacrifice  to  Paul  and  Barnabas ;  and,  with  his 
knowledge  of  the  Bible,  he  was  sure  to  think  of  them.  He 
did.  "  I  know  of  no  garlands"  he  said,  "  but  those  in  the 
Acts  : — Take  you  them  !" 

But  nothing  provoked  Bunyan's  sarcastic  power,  more 
than  selfishness  in  the  Clergy ;  whether  Episcopalian  or 
Presbyterian.  He  makes  his  "  teeth  meet  at  every  bite," 
upon  benefice-hunters.  "  Would  the  people  learn  to  be 
covetous,"  he  says  ;  "  they  need  but  look  to  their  Mini- 
sters, and  they  shall  have  a  lively,  or  rather  a  deadly 
resemblance  set  before  them, — in  their  riding  and  running 
after  great  Benefices  and  Parsonages,  by  night  and  by  day. 
Nay  ;  they  amongst  themselves  will  scramble  for  the  same. 
I  have  seen, — that  so  soon  as  a  man  is  departed  from  his 


428  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Benefice  (as  he  calls  it),  either  by  death,  or  out  of  covet- 
ousness  for  a  bigger ;  we  have  had  one  Priest  from  this 
town,  and  another  from  that,  so  run  after  these  tithe-cocks 
and  handfuls  of  barley,  as  if  it  were  their  proper  trade  to 
hunt  after  the  same."  "  I  hope,"  he  adds,  "  God  will  give 
me  opportunity  and  a  fair  call,  that  I  shall,  a  second  time  in 
this  world,  give  testimony  against  jowx  JiWuj  conversation." 
He  did  so,  and  in  poetry,  addressed  to  Girls  and  Boys. 

TO  THE  CUCKOO. 

"  Thou  Booby,  say'st  thou  nothing  but  Cuckoo  ? 
The  Robin  and  the  Wren  can  thee  outdo. 
They  play  to  us,  from  out  their  little  throats, 
Not  one,  but  sundry,  pretty  tuneful  notes. 
But  thou  hast  Fellows  !     Some  like  thee  can  do 
Nothing  but  suck  our  eggs,  and  cry,  Cuckoo  /" 

Divine  Emblems, 

With  not  less  severity  could  he  lash  another  kind  of 
wolves  in  sheep's  clothing  ; — pretenders  to  supernatural 
visions  and  messages.  "  There  are  a  company  of  dumb 
dogs  crept  into  the  nation,  and  they  are  every  one  for  his 
gain  from  his  quarter :  and  there  are  a  company  of  wolves 
also  crept  out,  wrapping  themselves  about  with  sheep's 
clothing." 

His  promptness,  as  well  as  power,  in  repartee,  never 
failed  him  upon  emergencies.  When  Anne  Blackly,  the 
sister  of  Burroughs  the  Quaker,  called  upon  him  to  throw 
away  the  Scriptures,  whilst  preaching,  "No,"  said  he; 
"  for  then  the  Devil  would  be  too  hard  for  me."  Thus 
he  complimented  Anne's  talents,  and  identified  the  use  of 
them  with  the  devil's,  at  the  same  time.  Interruptions  of 
this  kind  were  often  given  to  him  in  the  pulpit.  The 
Quakers,  he  says,  "  have  told  me  to  my  face,  that  I  use 
conjuration  and  witchcraft,  because  what  I  preached  was 
according  to  the  Scriptures.  I  myself  have  heard  them 
blaspheme,  with  a  grinning  countenance,  the  doctrine  of 
that  Man's  second  coming  from  heaven  above  the  stars, 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  429 

who  was  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary."  Anne  Blackly  was  the 
leader  of  these  public  interruptions.  Bunyan  was  un- 
willing, for  a  time,  to  expose  her  to  the  world :  but  when 
Burroughs  denied  that  any  Quaker  would  condemn  him 
ifor  preaching  according  to  the  Scriptures,  he  published 
sister  Anne's  ravings y  "  as  a  warning  to  others." 

A  friendly  Quaker  visiting  him  one  day  in  Jail,  intro- 
iduced  himself  thus,  "  Friend  Bunyan,  the  Lord  hath  sent 
me  with  a  message  to  thee,  and  I  have  been  searching  for 
thee  everywhere."  "  Nay,  Friend,"  said  Bunyan,  "  if  thy 
message  to  me  had  been  from  the  Lord,  he  would  have 
told  thee  ivhere  to  find  me ;  for  I  have  been  long  here." 
This  reply  gave  rise  probably  to  the  similar  one  of  Caffin. 
He  was  a  farmer  as  well  as  a  preacher,  and  thus  suspected 
of  paying  tithes.  A  Quaker,  therefore,  came  to  him  and 
said,  "  Matthew  Caffin,  I  have  a  message  from  the  Lord 
to  thee :  I  am  come  to  reprove  thee  for  paying  tithes  to 
the  priests,  and  to  forbid  thy  doing  so  any  more."  "  Thou 
art  not  sent  of  the  Lord,  but  deceived,"  said  Matthew, 
"  for  I  never  did  pay  tithes,  nor  am  I  likely  to  be  charged 
with  any."  The  farm  was  tithe-free  to  him. —  Taylor* s 
Gen.  Baptists. 

One  chief  fund  of  Bunyan's  wit  lies  where  it  has  never 
been  suspected  ;  in  his  "  Divine  Emblems  for  the  use  of 
Boys  and  Girls,"  There  are  whole  sheaves  of  "  polished 
shafts  "  hid  in  that  little  Book.  He  placed  them  there,  he 
says,  on  the  principle, 

"  That  'tis  the  arrow  out  of  sight 
Does  not  the  Sleeper  or  the  Watcher  fright." 

He  could  not,  however,  keep  his  own  secret.  At  least, 
he  told  too  much  in  his  Preface,  not  to  forewarn,  and  thus 
fore-arm^  some  of  the  grown-up  children  of  his  times. 
He  says, 

"  The  Title  Page  will  shew,  if  thou  wilt  look, 
Who  are  the  proper  subjects  of  this  book. 


430  IIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

They're  boys  and  girls,  of  all  sorts  and  degrees, 

From  those  of  age,  to  children  on  the  knees. 

Thus  comprehensive  am  I  in  my  notions. 

They  tempt  me  to  it,  by  their  childish  motions  I 

We  now  have  boys  with  beards,  and  girls  that  be 

Huge  as  old  women,  wanting  gravity. 

Our  bearded  men,  do  act  like  beardless  boys, 

Our  ivomen  please  themselves  with  childish  toys." 

It  was,  perhaps,  necessary  that  he  should  be  thus  ex- 
plicit, in  order  to  sustain  his  own  character  amongst  the 
wise  and  the  grave,  when  he  played  "  the  very  Dotril," 
and  cast  his  "  beard  behind  a  bush,"  to  gain  the  ear  of  the 
heedless  and  trifling.  Becoming  all  things,  in  order  to 
gain  some  of  the  gay  and  foolish,  was  a  hazardous  attempt 
for  a  Minister,  and  hardly  in  keeping  with  the  solemnities 
of  imprisonment  for  conscience'  sake.  Bunyan  felt  this, 
and  explained  his  motives  thus  ; 

"  Our  Ministers,  long  time,  by  word  and  pen, 

Dealt  with  them,  counting  them  not  boys,  but  men. 

They  shot  their  thunders  at  them  and  their  toys ; 

But  hit  them  not :  for  they  are  girls  and  boys. 

The  better  charged,  the  loider  still  they  shot ; 

Or  else  so  high,  such  Dwarfs  they  touched  not. 

Instead  of  7nen,  they  found  them  girls  and  boys, 

To  nought  addicted  but  their  childish  toys. 

Wherefore,  Dear  Reader,  that  I  save  them  may, 

I  now  with  them  the  very  Dotril  play 

And  since  at  gravity  they  make  a  tush. 

My  very  heard  I  cast  behind  a  bush. 

Paul  seemed  to  play  the  fool,  that  he  might  gain 

Those  that  were  Fools  indeed,  if  not  in  grain. 

A  noble  act,  and  full  of  honesty  I" 

Preface  to  Emblems. 

In  imitating  this  noble  act,  Bunyan  often  indulges  his  ivit, 
as  well  as  his  fancy,  and  is  grave  and  gay  by  turns.  Of 
the  Legalist^  he  says, 

'  Our  Legalist  is  like  a  nimble  Top : 
Without  a  whip,  he  will  not  duty  do. 
Let  Moses  whip  :  he  will  both  skip  and  hop  I 
Forbear  to  whip  :  he'll  neither  stand  nor  go  !" 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  431 

The  Hypocrite,  as  may  be  supposed,  finds  no  quarter 
from  our  sharp-shooter^  in  the  Emblems. 

"  The  Frog,  by  nature,  is  both  damp  and  cold. 
Her  mouth  is  large ;  her  belly  much  can  hold. 
She  sits  somewhat  ascending  :  loves  to  be 
Croaking  in  gardens,  though  unpleasantly. 
The  Hypocrite  is  like  unto  this  Frog  : 
As  like — as  is  a  -puppy  to  a  dog. 
He  is  of  nature  cold ;  his  mouth  is  loide. 
To  prate,  and  at  true  goodness  to  deride. 
He  mounts  his  head,  as  if  he  lived  above, 
Although  the  ivorld  is  that  which  has  his  love. 
And  though  he  seeks  in  Churches  for  to  croak. 
He  neither  loveth  Jesus,  nor  his  yoke." 

The  author  of  Mammon  would  not  be  ashamed  of  Bun- 
yan's  hits  at  mammonized  professors,  homely  as  they  are. 

"  Those  Saints  whose  eyes  are  always  in  their  pocket, 
And  Candles  that  do  hlink  within  the  socket. 
Are  much  alike.     Such  Candles  make  us  fumble ; 
And  at  such  saints,  good  men  and  bad  do  stumble  I 
Good  candles  don't  offend,  except  sore  eyes ; 
Nor  hurt,  unless  it  be  the  silly  Flies." 

The  Ostentatious  fare  no  better  than  the  niggardly,  in 
the  Emblems. 

"  Some  professing  men. 
If  they  do  aught  that's  good,  they,  like  a  Hen, 
Cannot  but  cackle  on't,  where'er  they  go  ; 
And  what  their  right  hand  doth,  their  left  must  know." 

Emblems,  vol.  ii. 

Bunyan's  wit,  although  not  much  blunted  by  his  rhyme, 
tells  best  in  his  prose.  The  most  daring  stroke  of  it,  that 
I  know,  is  terrific.  He  had  been  asked,  if  it  was  likely 
that  a  funeral  Sermon  would  be  preached  on  the  death  of 
Badman  ?  "I  doubt  not,"  he  said,  "  that  some  one  will 
be  found  to  bury  even  Gog  himself  thus,  in  the  valley  of 
Hamon-Gog  I"  It  is  a  curious  coincidence  that,  soon 
after.  Dr.  Tenison  preached  a  funeral  Sermon  on  the 
death  of  the  notorious  Nell  Gwynn^  one  of  the  Mistresses 


432  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

of  Charles  II.  The  Earl  of  Jersey,  very  properly,  started 
this  fact,  as  a  reason  against  Tenison's  nomination  to  the 
Archbishopric  of  Canterbury.  The  Queen,  however,  over- 
ruled the  objection,  on  the  ground  that  the  Dr.  was  too 
good  a  man  to  have  spoken  well  of  "  the  Protestant 
Courtezan,"  if  she  had  not  deserved  it  by  her  penitence. 
Tenison  was  so  twitted  for  this  Sermon  by  the  Papists,  (an 
exaggerated  report  of  which  was  hawked  through  London. 
Biog.  Brit.),  that  he  apprized  the  public  of  the  incorrect- 
ness of  the  first  printed  report  of  it.  I  have  never  seen 
the  Sermon  in  any  form :  but  Nell's  Will  contains  the 
appointment  of  Tenison  as  the  preacher.  She  bequeathes 
a  pulpit-cloth  and  cushion  to  his  Church,  St.  Martin's-in- 
the-fields ;  and  places  at  his  disposal  150/.  for  the  poor 
of  the  parish :  fifty  pounds  of  which  are  for  the  benefit 
of  those  from  whom  she  differed  in  her  religion, — the 
Romanists !  She  was  interred  "  with  great  solemnity,"  at 
St.  Martin's-in-the-Fields.— iVeif;  Monthly,  1838.  The  fact 
is,  funeral  Sermons  were  fashionable  then.  One  Dignitary 
saved  his  conscience  in  preaching  one  for  a  worse  character 
than  Nell.  He  said,  she  was  born  well — lived  well — and 
died  well ;  and  then  preached  a  sermon  on  Death.  The 
fact  is,  the  names  of  the  towns  in  which  she  lived  and  died 
— ended  in  the  syllable  well!  The  Archbishop  was  not  so 
fortunate  as  his  contemporary.  He  had  to  take  Nell 
Gwynn  as  he  found  her. 

Bunyan  said  of  Badman's  children,  "  They  had,  like 
Esau,  to  join  in  affinity  with  Ishmael ;  to  match,  live,  and 
die  with  Hypocrites  :  the  Good  would  not  trust  them, 
because  they  were  bad  in  their  lives  ;  and  the  Bad  would 
not  trust  them,  because  they  were  good  in  their  words. 
Their  Father  did  not  like  them,  because  they  had  their 
Mother's  tongue  ;  and  their  Mother  did  not  like  them, 
because  they  had  their  Father's  heart  and  life  :  and  thus 
they  were  not  fit  company  for  good  or  bad." —  Works,  vol. 
ii.  p.  876. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


433 


When  Bunyan  borrowed  a  sharp  arrow  from  another 
man's  quiver,  he  shot  it  well.  "  As  Luther  says,  *  In  tM 
name  of  God,* — begins  all  mischief ;  for  Hypocrites  have 
no  other  way  to  bring  their  evils  to  maturity,  but  by 
mixing  the  name  of  God  and  Religion  with  them.  So 
Master  Cheat  stands  for  a  right  honest  man.  Some  are 
arch-villains  in  this  way.  They  use  the  ivhite  of  Religion 
to  hide  the  dirt  of  their  actions." — Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  900. 
"  He  is  '  penny  wise  and  pound  foolish,'  they  say,  *  who 
loseth  a  good  ship  for  a  halfpenny  worth  of  tar  ;*  what  then 
is  he  who  loseth  his  soul  for  a  little  of  this  world  ?" — 
Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  901. 

"  The  Holy  War  "  abounds  with  sparkling  Wit,  as  well 
as  with  profound  metaphysics.     It  is,  altogether,  "  a  witty 
invention,"  which   verifies   the   proverb,    that  "  Wisdom 
dwells  with  Prudence."     Mr.  Conscience,  the  Recorder  of 
Mansoul,  was   "  put  out  of  place  by  Diabolus,"  Bunyan 
says,  *'  because  he  was  a  seeing  man :  wherefore  he  dark- 
ened him,  not  only  by  taking  from  him  his  office,  but  by 
building  a  high  and  strong  Tower  between  the  sun,  and 
the  windows  of  the  Recorder's  house."     Lord  Will-be'ivill 
also,  was,  he  says,  "  as  high-born,  and  even  more  a  free- 
holder than  many ;  having  privileges  peculiar  to  himself 
in  Mansoul.     Now  together  with  these,  he  was  a  man  of 
great  strength,  resolution,  and  courage  ;  nor  in  his  occa- 
sion could  any  tmm  him.    A  headstrong  man  he  was !     He 
was   the  first  to  listen  to   Diabolus  at  Eargate,   and   to 
welcome  him  into  the  town.     Diabolus,  therefore,  made 
him  Keeper  of  all  the  Gates,  and  Governor  of  the  Wall ; 
and  then,  next  to  the  Devil  himself, — who  but  my  Lord 
Will-be-will,   in  all  the  town  of   Mansoul !      When  this 
power  was  put  into  his  hands,  he  flatly  denied  that  he 
owed   any    suit    or   service    to    his   former   Prince.      He 
maligned  the  Recorder  to  death,  and  would  shut  his  eyes 
when  he  happened  to  see  him,  and  his  ears  when  he  heard 
his  voice.    He  could  not  endure  that  so  much  as  ^fragment 
3  K 


434  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

of  the  Laws  of  Shaddai  should  be  seen  anywhere  in  all 
the  town.  Mr.  Mind,  his  Clerk,  had  some  old  parchments 
of  the  Law ;  but  Wili-be-will  cast  them  behind  his  back. 
He  also  tried  to  come  at  some  old  scraps  of  the  Law, 
which  Mr.  Conscience  had  in  his  study ;  but  he  could 
not  get  at  them,  owing-  to  the  windows  of  the  old  Lord 
Major's  house.  These  windows,  he  thought  by  far  too 
light  for  the  profit  of  Mansoul.  He  would  also  make  him- 
self abject  amongst  any  base  and  rascally  crew,  to  cry 
up  Diabolus.  His  Deputy,  Mr.  Affection,  he  married  to 
Miss  Carnal :  *  like  to  like,'  quoth  the  Devil  to  the  Collier. 
And  when  he  appointed  thirteen  men  Aldermen  for  Man- 
soul,  Mr.  Incredulity  was  the  oldest,  and  Mr.  Atheism 
the  youngest.  As  for  the  Common  Council  Men,  they 
were  all  cousins  or  nephews  of  the  Aldermen." 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  this  is  wit  of  the  highest  order  ; 
and  the  more  remarkable,  inasmuch  as  it  is  struck  out 
from  abstract  qualities  and  personified  passions.  Mont- 
gomery says  of  such  impersonations,  that  there  arises  from 
their  very  constitution  "  one  grand  disadvantage  ; — the 
reader  almost  certainly  foresees  what  such  typical  beings 
will  do,  say,  or  suffer,  according  to  the  circumstances  in 
which  they  are  placed."  This  is  only  too  true  of  *'  most 
of  the  creatures  of  imagination,  that  figure  away  in  formal 
Allegories." — Essay  on  tJie  Pilgrim^s  Progress.  Some  of 
Bunyan's  impersonations  of  both  Powers  and  Passions  are, 
however,  exceptions  to  this  remark.  "  The  Poet's  eye,  in 
a  fine  frenzy  rolling,"  may  have  foreseen  all  the  freaks  of 
Lord  Will-be-will,  and  all  the  fits  of  Mr.  Conscience,  when 
Diabolus  got  into  Mansoul ;  but  ordinary  eyes  are  agree- 
ably surprised  at  some  of  both.  Bunyan  himself  "  wondered 
to  see  Lord  Will-be-will  take  neither  the  one  side  nor  the 
other  in  the  quarrel  between  Lord  Understanding  and  old 
Incredulity,  when  Mr.  Prejudice  was  kicked  in  the  streets, 
and  Mr.  Anything  had  one  of  his  legs  broken.  His 
Lordship  even  smiled  to  see  old  Prejudice  tumbled  up  and 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  435 

down  in  the  nmd ;  and  took  but  little  notice  when  Captain 
Anything-  came  limping-  up  to  him.  It  made  me  laugh" 
says  Bunyan,  "  to  see  how  old  Mr.  Prejudice  was  kicked 
and  tumbled  about  by  the  mob,  when  they  had  g-ot  him 
under  their  feet.  He  had  his  crown  cracked,  to  boot,  by 
some  of  Lord  Understanding's  party." — Holy  War,  p.  91. 

Bunyan's  readers  laugh  with  him,  at  not  a  few  of  the 
turns  of  popular  feeling-  in  Mansoul,  as  well  as  at  the 
caprices  of  Lord  Will-be-will.  Both  tears  and  smiles  await 
his  Lordship,  whilst  he  is  keeping-  Lent.  Not  until  Lent 
was  almost  out,  did  he  venture  to  hire  Lasciviousness  as  a 
lacquey ;  and  then  only  under  the  name  of  Harmless- 
Mirth!— ^o/y  War,  p.  231.  Mr.  Godly  Fear  also  wins 
much  sympathy  from  the  reader.  He  hired  the  masked 
Diabolian,  Lord  Anger,  under  the  name  of  Good- Zeal ; 
but  soon  found  him  out.  "  The  old  gentleman  took 
pepper  in  the  nose,  and  turned  him  out  of  the  house,  and 
would  have  hanged  him  for  his  labour  had  he  not  run 
away."  Young  Captain  Experience  also  is  a  favourite. 
The  Hell-drum  could  not  daunt  him,  until  Captain  Cre- 
dence stumbled  and  fell,  in  the  great  battle  with  the 
Doubters.  He  fought  as  by  instinct,  even  when  he  sup- 
posed Credence  to  be  dead  ;  and  only  quitted  the  field 
through  loss  of  blood.  Accordingly,  although  his  wounds 
were  not  half  healed  when  the  next  battle  came  on,  the 
moment  lie  heard  the  Trumpets  sound,  and  saw  Captain 
Credence  at  the  head  of  the  Prince's  army  again,  "  what 
does  he  but,  calling  for  his  crutches  with  haste,  gets  up  and 
away  to  the  battle  ?  But  when  the  enemy  saw  the  man 
come  with  his  crutches,  they  were  daunted  ;  for,  thought 
they,  what  spirit  possessed  these  Mansoulians,  that  they 
fight  upon  their  very  crutches  ?" — Holy  War,  p.  297. 

Some  of  Bunyan's  finest  strokes  occur  in  the  Trial  of 
old  Questioning,  who  harboured  the  four  Doubters  in 
liis  "  tottering  cottage,"  in  Mansoul,  after  the  rout  of  their 
arrny.     The  first  was  an  Election-Doubter  :  the  second,  a 


436  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Vocation-Doubter :  the  third,  a  Salvation-Doubter :  the 
fourth,  a  Grace-Doubter.  These  were  all  welcome  to  him. 
*'  Be  of  what  Shire  ye  may,"  (Blind-m<2W-shire  or  Blind-zeal- 
shire !)  he  said,  "  you  are  town-hoys  ;  you  have  the  length 
of  my  foot,  and  are  one  with  my  heart.  I  would  there  were 
ten  thousand  well-armed  Doubters  now  in  Mansoul,  and 
myself  at  the  head  of  them  !  I  would  see  what  I  could  do. 
But,  be  quiet  and  close,  or  you  will  be  snapt,  I  assure  you. 
If  Will-be-will,  who  is  now  Keeper  of  the  Gate,  light 
upon  you,  down  you  go,  if  your  heads  were  gold." 

Old  Questioning  was  "  indicted  by  the  name  of  Evil- 
Questioning."  He  took  his  first  objection  to  this,  as  a 
misnomer  : — *^  which  name,"  he  said,  "  I  deny  to  be  mine  : 
mine  being  Honest  Inquiring.  Your  Lordships  know 
that  between  these  two  there  is  a  wide  difference.  I  hope 
a  man  may  make  honest  inquiry  even  in  the  worst  of  times, 
and  that  too  amongst  the  worst  men,  without  running  the 
danger  of  death."  Lord  Will-be-will  defeated  this  shift,  by 
telling  the  Court,  with  deep  shame,  that  the  prisoner  and 
he  had  been  "  great  acquaintance  for  thirty  years  ;"  and 
that  in  the  time  of  the  Rebellion,  Evil-Questioning  had 
*'  lain  at  his  house  not  so  little  as  twenty  nights  together," 
talking  as  he  had  lately  with  the  four  Doubters.  This 
settled  his  identity.  He  then  pleaded,  that  it  was  not 
lawful  to  condemn  a  man  on  the  testimony  of  one  witness. 
Mr.  Diligence,  therefore,  proved  that  he  had  been  on 
watch  in  Bad-Street,  where  Questioning's  tottering  cottage 
stood,  and  had  overheard  all  the  conversation  which  took 
place  with  the  Doubters.  "  Then,  said  Evil-Questioning, 
'  the  men  that  came  into  my  house  were  Strangers^  and  I 
took  them  in.  And  is  it  now  become  a  crime  in  Mansoul, 
for  a  man  to  entertain  strangers  ?  That  I  nourished  them 
is  true:  but  why  should  iwy  chmHty  he  blamed?  I  also 
bid  them  take  heed  that  they  fell  not  into  the  Captain's 
hands :  but  that  might  be — because  I  am  unwilling  that 
any  man  should   be  slain,  and  not  because  I  would  have 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  43? 

the  King's  enemies,  as  suchy  escape.  I  might  too  mean 
well  to  Mansoul,  for  aught  any  one  knows  yet,  when  I 
wished  there  were  ten  thousand  Doubters  in  it.'  These 
evasions  only  hurried  on  his  sentence.  They  proved  him 
to  be,  beyond  all  doubt,  a  Diabolian.  And  he  completed 
the  proof  by  saying,  *  I  see  how  the  game  will  go.  I  must 
die  for  my  name,  and  for  my  charity  !  And  so  held  his 
peace.  He  was  hanged  at  the  top  of  Bad-Street,  just  over 
his  own  door.*' — Holy  War,  p.  32 1 . 

Bunyan's  stroke  at  Spira  is  too  solemn  to  be  called  wit ; 
but  it  is  power  of  a  peculiar  kind.  I  know  not  what  to 
call  it.  "  The  burden  of  Spira's  complaint  was,"  he  says, 
"'  I  cannot  repent;  O,  now,  I  cannot  do  it!'  This  man 
sees  what  he  hath  done — what  would  help  him — what  will 
become  of  him  ;  but  he  cannot  repent.  He  had  pulled 
away  his  shoulder,  and  shut  his  eyes  before  ; — and  in  that 
very  posture  God  left  him,  and  so  he  stands  to  this  day !" 
He  adds,  "  I  have  a  fancy  that  Lot's  wife  was  looking  over 
her  shoulder  towards  Sodom,  when  she  was  turned  into  a 
pillar  of  salt : — as  the  Judgment  caught  her,  so  it  hound 
her"— Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  1147. 

He  can  be  somewhat  playful  with  a  serious  subject, 
without  the  least  approach  to  levity.  Thus ;  *'  no  man 
could  tell  so  well  as  Jonah  what  he  saw  and  felt  in  the 
Whale's  belly  :  for  no  man  else  was  ever  there,  and  came 
out  again.  So  the  returning  Backslider  can  tell  strange 
stories ;  and  yet  such  as  are  very  true !" — Works,  vol,  ii. 
p.  671.  Again,  *'  the  old  way  to  Paradise  is  hedged  and 
ditched  up  by  the  flaming  sword  of  Cherubim  ;  and  there 
is  no  back  door." — Works,  vol.  iii.  p.  1675.  Even  of 
Heaven,  he  could  say  with  an  innocent  smile,  "  I  see  no 
reason  why  we  should  be  idle  there.  The  fishes  in  the 
sea  drink ;  but  they  drink  and  swim,"  at  the  same  time, 
"  And  what  if  our  work  in  Heaven  be,  to  receive,  and 
bless  ?  But  for  further  discourse  of  that, — let  it  alone  till 
we  come  thither." — Works,  vol.  iii.  p.  1748. 


438  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Some  of  his  strokes  at  Antichrist  are  as  beautiful  as 
others  of  them  are  bold.  The  following'  one  is  inimitably 
fine  :  "  The  signs  of  Antichrist's  fall  are  terrible  and 
amazing !  But  what  of  that  ?  The  wrinkles  in  his  face 
threaten  not  us,  but  him.  Our  cold  blasts  are  but  the 
farewell  notes  of  a  piercing  Winter.  They  bring  with 
them  signs  and  tokens  of  a  comfortable  Summer.  His 
are  like  cold  blasts  in  November ;  worse  than  colder  in 
March  and  April.  The  Church  is  now  at  the  rising  (the 
Spring)  of  the  year.  We  should,  therefore,  look  through 
these  paper  windows,  and  espy  in  all  that  we  fear,  the 
terrible  judgments  which  are  following  at  his  heels." — 
Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  1912. 

The  covetousness  and  ambition  of  Popery  put  Bunyan 
upon  his  mettle.  He  says,  "  Money,  money,  *  broken  or 
whole^  as  the  Pedlar  cries,  is  the  sinews  of  their  religion. 
For  that,  they  have  kicked  off  the  crowns  of  Princes,  and 
set  them  on  again  with  their  toes  P* —  Works,  vol.  iv.  p. 
1908,  Again;  Antichrist  is  the  adversary  of  Christ :  an 
adversary  really ;  a  friend  pretendedly.  He  is  one  that  is 
against  Christ ;  and  for  Christ ;  and  contrary  to  Christ. 
This  is  the  Mystery  of  Iniquity !  Against  Him  in  deed  ; 
for  Him  in  word  ;  contrary  to  Him  in  practice.  He  is  so 
proud  as  to  go  before  Christ ;  so  humble  as  to  pretend  to 
come  after  Christ ;  and  so  audacious  as  to  say  that  him- 
self is  Christ.  Antichrist  will  cry  up  Christ ;  cry  down 
Christ ;  proclaim  himself  one  with  Christ.  But  the  dogs 
who  eat  the  crumbs  of  Christ's  table  shall  so  hunt  and 
scour  Antichrist  about,  even  although  the  tushes  of  his 
chops  tear  them,  that  they  will  have  his  life." — Works, 
vol.  iv.  p.  1858. 

Some  of  Bunyan's  guesses  about  the  fall  of  Antichrist, 
were  almost  prophetic,  as  well  as  witty.  "  The  Protestants 
in  France,"  he  says,  *'  had  more  favour  with  their  Prince 
formerly,  than  they  have  at  this  time.  Yet  I  doubt  not, 
that  God  will  make  that  Horn  hate  the  whore.    Antichrist 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  439 

shall  not  down,  but  by  the  hand  of  Kings.  The  Preacher 
kills  her  soul,  and  the  King  kills  her  body.  Spirit  can  only 
be  slain  by  spirits." — Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  1858. 

I  make  no  apology  for  prolonging  this  Chapter.  Bun- 
yan's  wit  has  hitherto  been  overlooked,  except  by  hook- 
tvorms  like  myself;  or  illustrated  only  from  the  Pilgrim's 
Progress.  It  ought,  however,  to  have  currency.  It  is 
calculated  to  do  much  good.  "The  men  of  Hezekiah" 
would  have  "  copied  out,"  as  I  have  done,  many  of  his 
Proverbs,  just  as  they  did  Solomon's,  for  public  usefulness. 
What  is  there,  in  any  language,  more  delicate  or  delicious 
than  Bunyan's  offered  i^eward  for  the  arrest  and  death  of 
Carnal- Sense,  in  Mansoul  ?  This  enemy  of  the  city 
had,  somehow,  escaped  from  prison,  and  like  a  ghost  was 
haunting  "  honest  men's  houses  a-night."  "  Wherefore  a 
Proclamation  was  set  up  in  the  market-place,  signifying 
that  whosoever  should  discover  Carnal-Sense,  and  appre- 
hend him,  and  slai/  him,  should  be  admitted  daili/  to  the 
Prince's  Table,  and  made  Keeper  of  the  treasure  of 
Mansoul."  He  was  often  discovered  ;  **  but  slay  him  they 
could  not,"  although  "  many  bent  themselves  to  do  this 
thing."  They  laid  Mr.  Wrong-thoughts-of-Christ  in  prison, 
so  that  "  he  died  of  a  consumption,"  and  kept  Live-by- 
Feeling  and  Legal-Life  in  durance  which  killed  them  ;  but 
Carnal-Sense,  like  Mr.  Unbelief,  "  was  a  nimble  jack  they 
could  never  lay  hold  of,  though  they  attempted  to  do  it 
oiiQwr—Holy  War,  p.  328. 

This  is  almost  equalled  by  the  following :  "  Self-Love 
was  taken  and  committed  to  custody :  but  there  were  many 
allied  to  him  in  Mansoul ;  so  his  judgment  was  deferred. 
But  at  last,  Mr.  Self-Denial  stood  up  and  said,  '  If  such 
villains  as  these  may  be  winked  at  in  Mansoul, — I  viill  lay 
down  my  Commission !'  He  also  took  him  from  the 
crowd,  and  had  him  among  his  soldiers ;  and  there  he  was 
brained.  Some  in  Mansoul  muttered  at  this ;  but  none 
durst  speak  plainly,  because  Emmanuel  was  in  the  town. 


440  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

This  brave  act  came  to  the  ears  of  the  Prince ;  so  he  sent 
for  Self-Denial  and  made  him  a  Lord  in  Mansoul." — Holy 

War,  p.  329. 

These  specimens  of  Bunyan's  vein  will,  I  hope,  tempt 
not  a  few  to  go  into  his  mine  for  themselves.  I  have  gone 
through  it  with  some  care,  and  have  left  the  lamps  burning 
which  guided  me.  Let  me  say,  however,  to  the  young, 
that,  although  there  be  no  foul  air  in  the  Mine,  they  must 
take  with  them  the  Safety-lamp  of  Discretion,  if  they 
would  breathe  even  as  freely  as  I  have  done,  or  walk  as 
far  safely.  There  is  no  levity  in  Bunyan  :  but  he  has 
some  whims  and  crotchets  of  the  brain ;  which,  however 
innocent  in  themselves,  are  not  suited  to  our  times,  nor  in 
good  taste  even  for  his  own  times.  I  will  not  illustrate 
this ;  but  finish  the  Chapter  with  a  specimen  of  his  wit, 
which  is  only  a  fair  sample  of  his  accurate  observation  of 
Nature,  and  of  his  acuteness  in  turning  facts  into  lessons. 
He  says  of  Bishop  Fowler,  that  he  "  stridles  over  tho 
Atonement  like  a  spider  skipping  over  a  ivasj^,  and  twists 
against  Faith  like  an  eel  on  angle." — Orig.  Copy,  1671. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  441 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 


BUNYAN  S    CONCEITS. 


Bun Y AN  Spiritualized  so  much,  and  in  general  so  well, 
that  it  is  only  fair  to  separate  between  his  ingenious 
guesses,  and  his  whimsical  fancies.  True  ;  they  run  into 
each  other  often,  and  thus  are  inseparable  upon  his  pages. 
But  still,  his  whims  did  not  warp  his  judgment,  nor  taint 
his  theology,  nor  give  any  wrong  bias  to  his  conduct ;  and 
therefore  they  may  now  be  fairly  represented  as  nothing 
hut  whims  and  crotchets  of  a  teeming  brain,  which  neither 
a  good  conscience  nor  a  pure  heart  could  always  detect  or 
avoid. 

"The  Tower  of  Lebanon"  confronted,  he  says,  "Da- 
mascus, the  chief  city  of  the  King  of  Assyria,  to  shew- 
that  the  Church  is  raised  up  to  coyifront  Antichrist."  He 
found  also  in  the  three  rows  of  Pillars,  on  which  the  House 
of  the  Forest  of  Lebanon  stood,  the  three  Mediatorial 
Offices  of  Christ,  which  "  bear  up  the  Church  before  the 
World."  But  there  vf^XQ  fifteen  pillars  in  each  Row  ;  and 
fifteen  is  no  mystic  number  !  This  set  him  fast  for  a  time. 
"  I  can  say  no  further  than  I  can  5ee,"  he  says.  But  he 
did  not  like  to  be  baffled.  He  recollected  that  there  was  a 
reserve  of  seven  thousand,  who  had  not  bowed  the  Knee  to 
Baal,  "  when  that  fine  one,  Jezebel,  afflicted  the  Church  j" 
and  therefore  he  says,  fourteen  of  the  fifteen  pillars  were 
a  reserve  in  each  Row  ;  so  that  if  three  should  be  de- 
stroyed, there  would  still  be  three  times  fourteen  behind. 
3  L 


442  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Thus  he  comforted  himself,  that  Antichrist,  however  he 
might  cut  off  and  kill  the  Witnesses,  could  never  destroy 
all  the  pillars  of  the  Church. 

The  Mist  which  watered  the  face  of  the  ground  in  Eden, 
before  rain  fell,  was  a  type,  he  says,  "  that  there  is  suf- 
ficiency of  light,  even  where  there  is  not  the  word  of  the 
Gospel,  to  teach  men  to  govern  themselves  in  civil  and 
natural  society.  But  this,"  he  adds,  "  is  only  a  mist "  from 
the  earth,  not  rain  from  Heaven. 

He  finds  a  parallel  between  the  hundred  and  fifty  days, 
during  which  '*  the  waves  of  the  Flood  had  no  pity  on 
Noah,"  and  the  apocalyptic  period  of  the  Scorpions  ;  and 
thus,  a  clue  to  the  duration  of  the  persecution  in  his 
own  times.  Noah*s  sons,  also,  journeying  westward  from 
Ararat,  and  thus  "  turning  their  back  upon  the  Sun- 
rising"  were  types  of  the  primitive  Church,  and  the 
Restoration  Church,  declining  from  the  Sun  of  Righteous- 
ness :  and  their  halt  in  the  plain  of  Shinar,  was  "  a  right 
resemblance"  of  degeneracy  from  apostolic  doctrine,  to 
the  Church  of  Romish  Babylon.  What  would  Bunyan 
have  said  of  the  Oxford  Tract  School !  "  Moses,"  he  says, 
"  was  a  type  of  his  own  Law  :  for  as  his  milk-white  bosom 
could  not  change  the  swarthy  skin  of  his  Ethiopian  wife, 

So  he  that  doth  the  Law  for  life  adore, 
Shall  yet  by  it,  be  left  a  blackamoor." 

The  Apocalyptic  hailstones  which  are  to  fall  on  Babylon, 
weighed  a  talent ;  and  as  that  is  just  the  weight  of  the  lead 
laid  over  the  Ephah,  which  was  prepared  for  the  woman. 
Wickedness  (^Zech.  v.  6),  he  says  that  the  hailstones  shew 
that  Rome  is  to  get  no  more  good  out  of  the  Ephah,  but 
only  heavy  judgments.  He  hated  the  Scarlet  Lady  most 
heartily ;  and  hoped  to  see  her  funeral  before  his  death. 
"  She  is  now  dying,"  he  says  ;  therefore  "  let  us  ring  her 
passing-bell.  When  she  is  dead,  we  who  live  to  see  it, 
intend  to  ring  out !"     Had  she  died  before  him,  not  all  his 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  443 

prejudices  against  bell-ringing,  nor  his  old  fears  of  the 
beam  in  Elstow  Church  Tower,  would  have  prevented 
him  from  having  another  pull  at  the  ropes ! 

He  finds  the  Gospel-Net  in  the  net-work  of  the  Temple  ; 
and  as  that  work  had  four  hundred  Pomegranates  hung 
upon  it,  he  says,  *'  This  was  to  shew  that  the  Gospel-Net 
was  not  empty,  but  baited  with  grace  and  glory  to  catch 
sinners."  "  The  alluring  bait,  of  old,  was,  '  milk  and  honey.' 
With  that  Moses  drew  the  Jews  into  the  wilderness :  but 
we  have  Pomegranates — two  rows  of  them,  grace  and  glory, 
— as  the  bait  of  the  holy  gospel.  No  wonder  then  if, 
when  men  of  skill  cast  that  Net,  great  numbers  of  fish 
were  caught.  The  Apostles  baited  their  nets  with  taking 
things." 

Bunyan  is  not  always  least  wise,  when  he  is  most 
fanciful.  "  The  Temple,"  he  says,  "  was  widest  upward. 
All  other  houses  are  widest  downward.  But  an  iyich 
above  is  worth  an  ell  below.  Those  who  are  nearest  the 
earth  are  narrow- spirited.  The  temple  was  narrowest 
downward,  to  shew  that  a  little  of  the  earth,  or  of  this 
world,  should  content  us.  Thus  the  temple,  like  a  lovely 
picture,  speaks  by  its  form  to  all  Christians,  and  says,  *  Be 
ye  enlarged  upwards.' " 

The  Porch  of  the  Temple,  he  says,  was  for  strangers 
and  Beggars  ;  and  therefore  it  was  higher  than  either  the 
Holy  or  the  Holiest  Place,  that  it  might  be  seen  afar  off. 
So  the  charity  of  the  Church  should  be  as  high  as  the 
Church  steeple,  that  all  may  see  it;  as  the  Porch  was 
four  times  higher  than  the  temple  itself 

The  Golden  Snuffers  for  trimming  the  lamps  and  can- 
dlesticks signify,  he  says,  Church  discipline  ;  reproofs, 
rebukes,  and  admonitions,  for  edification.  "  It  is  not, 
therefore,  every  one  that  should  handle  the  snuffers  \  lest 
instead  of  mending  the  light,  they  put  out  the  candle. 
Paul  bids  them  that  are  '  spiritual '  do  it.  Strike  at  the 
snuffs  not   at  the  light,  in  all  your  rebukes.     Snuff  not 


444  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

your  lamps  for  a  private  revenge,  but  to  nourish  grace. 
Curb  vice,  but  nourish  virtue.  Use  golden  Snuffers  (the 
laws  of  Christ)  ;  not  your  own  fingers,  or  carnal  reason- 
ings, but  godly  admonitions."  Thus  there  is  more  ivisdom 
than  whim  in  some  of  Bunyan's  fancies  :  and  many  such 
things  are  with  him. 

He  was  somewhat  of  a  Millennarian,  although  not  in 
the  vulgar  sense  of  that  word,  as  used  then  or  now.  His 
"  New  Jerusalem  "  was  not  so  like  the  old  city  as  Irving's  ; 
and  there  was  no  Vennerism  at  all  in  it.  Still  Bunyan 
doated  not  a  little  on  the  seventh  thousand  years  of  the 
world,  as  well  as  dreamt  of  them.  One  of  his  strong 
reasons  for  this  was, — that  "  Enoch,  the  seventh  from 
Adam,  being  the  first  prophet  of  the  Resurrection,  was 
thus  a  type  of  the  seventh  thousand  years  in  which  the 
Lord  will  reign  with  his  Church !"  We  may  smile  at  this 
"  strong  reason  ;"  but  it  is  quite  as  valid  as  some  modern 
theories  of  the  first  Resurrection.  Bunyan  was,  however, 
no  drivelling  dreamer  about  the  Millennium.  '*  Its  glory 
will  be,"  he  says,  "  mostly,  yea  principally,  in  heavenly 
and  spiritual  things ;  such  as  faith,  love,  and  experience  of 
God,  Grace,  and  Christ.  It  grates  too  near  the  ground, 
for  me  to  rejoice  or  believe  that  the  glory  (of  the  latter 
Day)  will  consist  in  outward  or  carnal  things!  Can  it  be 
imagined  that  the  chief  glory  the  Gentiles  shall  bring  to 
the  Jews,  after  sixteen  hundred  years  wai-ming  in  the 
bosom  of  Christ,  should  consist  in  outward  trumpery? 
Would  this  be  a  suitable  medicine  to  the  eyes  of  a  wounded 
people,  as  the  Jews  will  be/'  when  they  shall  look  on  Him 
they  have  pierced? — Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  2401. 

It  will  be  recollected  that  Bunyan  did  not  avail  himself 
of  the  Great  Laver  in  the  temple,  to  support  his  own 
views  of  Baptism  :  he  found  a  type  of  them,  however,  in 
the  Deluge  !  "  The  Flood,"  he  says,  "  was  a  type  of  three 
things.  First,  of  the  enemies  of  the  Church.  Second,  a 
type    of  the    water-haptism   under   the    New  Testament. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  445 

Third,  of  the  last  overthrow  of  the  world.  He  refers,  of 
course,  to  1  Pet.  iii.  20,  21,  where  Noah*s  family  are  said 
to  have  been  "  saved  hy  water."  Bunyan  may  be  forgiven 
this  mistake.  There  were  not  so  many  goods  sent  hy 
water,  in  his  time,  as  to  suggest  to  him  that  on  the  water, 
is  meant. —  Works^  vol.  iv.  p.  2531. 

I  do  not  know  how  this  passage  is  applied  by  Baptists 
in  general :  but  there  is  a  paper  in  the  Baptist  Magazine 
for  1816,  signed  W.  N.  Stepney,  from  which  it  appears 
that  King  James  must  have  taken  a  similar  view  of  the 
flood.  He  said  in  his  speech  on  the  Gunpowder  plot,  in 
1605,  "  God  did  by  a  general  deluge  and  overflowing  of 
waters  Baptize  the  world  to  a  general  destruction,  and 
not  to  general  purgation."  W.  N.  says,  **  the  figurative 
use  of  the  word  baptize,  in  this  passage,  strongly  conveys 
the  idea  of  immersion."  And  it  certainly  does :  but  of 
immersion  by  down-pouring.  The  King  said  also  in  the 
same  speech,  in  reference  to  the  attempt  upon  his  life  in 
youth,  in  Scotland,  "  I  should  have  been  baptized  in 
blood."  The  writer  quotes  this  expression  also  ;  but  not 
to  balance  the  former.  He  argues,  indeed,  as  if  both 
conveyed  the  idea  of  immersion.  And  if  James  meant 
that,  W.  N.  might  well  say,  "  yet  it  is  a  remarkable  fact, 
that  in  the  reign  of  this  monarch  immersion  began  to  be 
superseded,  as  we  learn  from  Sir  John  Floyer."  It  is 
really  difficult  to  say  whether  such  criticisms  on  the  Verb 
by  Baptists,  or  similar  ones  on  the  Prepositions  by  Peedo- 
baptists,  be  folly  or  crime. 

There  is  wit  as  well  as  whim  in  his  personification  of 
Rome,  when  *'  that  slut  ran  away  with  the  name  "  of  the 
spouse,  and  set  herself  up  as  Dame  of  the  world,  and 
Mistress  in  the  Church.  "  Then,  she  turned  all  things 
topsy-turvy  in  the  House.  She  would  have  an  altar  like 
Tiglath-Pileser's.  The  Lord's  brazen  Altar  must  be  re- 
moved from  its  old  place,  and  the  molten  sea  taken  off" 
from  the  backs  of  the  brazen  oxen  (where  Solomon  set  it) 


446  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

and  set  on  a  pavement  of  stone."  "  Solomon  !  Alas, 
Solomon  is  nobody  now  !  This  Woman  is  wiser  in  her 
own  conceits  than  seven  men  that  can  render  a  reason. 
Now  the  court  of  the  Sabbath  must  be  turned  to  the  use 
of  the  King-  of  Assyria!"  This  was  bold  language,  at 
the  time ;  for  it  was  intelligible  then.  It  is  so  still  to  those 
who  know  the  King-,  and  Gunning,  and  Sheldon,  well. 
Bunyan,  however,  seldom  shot  mystical  arrows  at  "  high 
places." 

There  is,  perhaps,  no  conceit  of  his  more  amusing  than 
the  defences  of  Eargate,  when  Mansoul  was  summoned 
to  surrender  by  Boanerges.  The  Town  had  planted  over 
Eargate  two  great-guns,  the  one  called  High-fnind,  and 
the  other  Heady.  They  were  cast  by  one  Mr.  Puff-uj), 
Diabolus's  own  founder,  in  the  castle ;  and  mischievous 
pieces  they  were !  Old  Mr.  Prejudice  (an  angry  and  ill- 
conditioned  fellow)  was  made  Captain  of  the  ward  of  that 
gate,  and  sixty  men,  called  Deaf  Men  were  put  under 
him :  men  advantageous  to  that  service,  inasmuch  they 
mattered  not  what  either  captains  or  soldiers  said ! — Holy 
War,  p.  74. 

The  Prefaces,  as  well  as  the  Titles^  of  Books,  were 
often  whimsical  in  Bunyan*s  day  :  but  the  only  odd 
one  of  his,  that  I  recollect,  is  that  to  his  Treatise  on  the 
Water  of  Life  ;  and  it,  although  odd,  is  striking.  "  Cour- 
teous Reader,  thou  mayest,  if  thou  wilt,  call  this  Book, 
'  Bunyan' s  Bill  of  his  Master's  Water  of  Life.'  True  ;  I 
have  not  set  forth,  at  large,  the  excellent  nature  and  quality 
thereof:  nor  can  that  be  done  by  the  pen  or  tongue  of 
men  or  angels.  But  as  men  in  their  Bills,  for  the  con- 
viction of  readers,  do  give  an  account  to  the  Country  of 
the  persons  cured  by  liquors  and  preparations  made  for 
that  end,  so  could  I,  were  it  not  done  already  to  my  hand 
by  Holy  Writ.  Many  of  the  Cured,  indeed,  are  removed 
from  hence,  and  live  where  they  cannot  be  spoken  with  as 
yet ;  but  abundance  of  them  remain  here,  and  have  their 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  447 

abode  with  men.  If  thou  wouldst  drink  of  this  water, 
drink  it  by  itself.  And  that  thou  mayest  not  be  deceived 
by  the  counterfeit,  know  that  the  true  is  '  clear  as  crystal.' 
I  know  that  there  are  many  Mountebanks  in  the  world, 
and  every  one  of  them  pretends  to  have  this  water  to  sell. 
But  my  advice  is,  —  go  directly  to  the  Throne"  from 
whence  it  proceeds. —  Works.)  vol.  ii.  p.  1172.  The  Trea- 
tise did  not  need  a  Preface  of  this  kind ;  but  it  admitted 
of  such  a  one :  for  he  acknowledged  that  he  has  alle- 
gorized^ in  that  Work.  He  meant  by  Allegory,  in  it, 
however,  such  comparisons  as  the  following  :  *'  This  is  the 
wholesomest  water  in  the  world.  You  may  take  it  at  the 
third,  sixth,  ninth,  or  eleventh  hour ;  but  to  take  it  in  the 
morning  of  your  age  is  best ;  for  then  diseases  have  not  so 
great  a  head." — P.  1200.  "  Epsom,  Tunbridge,  and  Bath 
waters,  may  be  common;  but  they  are  a  great  way  off: 
yet  those  who  are  loth  to  die  make  provision  to  have 
their  dwellings  by  those  waters."— Pp.  1177,  1204.  "  He 
that  stands  on  the  banks  of  the  River  of  Life,  and  washeth 
his  eyes  with  the  water,  may  see  the  stars  of  God  ;  as 
in  fair  waters,  a  man  may  see  the  very  body  of  the 
heavens." — P.  1197.  "  The  Water  is  sometimes  muddied 
by  false  glosses  and  sluttish  opinions.  This  is  apparent 
enough  by  the  very  hue  of  some  poor  souls.  The  very 
stain  of  Tradition  may  be  seen  in  their  scales.  For  as 
the  Fish  of  the  river  receive  the  changeable  colours  of 
the  waters,  so  Professors  look  like  the  doctrines  they  drink. 
If  their  doctrines  are  rnuddy,  their  notions  are  muddy. 
If  their  doctrines  are  bloodg,  their  tempers  are  bloody." — 
P.  1 197.  "  Art  thou  SiJisJh  man  ?  Art  thou  a  fish  ?  Canst 
thou  live  in  the  River  of  the  water  of  life  ?  Is  grace  thy 
proper  element  ?  I  know  there  are  some  things  besides 
fish,  that  can  make  a  shift  to  live  in  the  water.  But  not 
in  the  water  only.  The  frog  and  the  otter  can  live  in  it, 
but  not  in  it  only.  Give  some  men  grace  and  sin,  grace 
and  the  world,  and  they  will  make  a  pretty  good  shift  to 


448 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


live  :  but,  hold  them  to  grace  only, — put  them  into  the 
River,  and  let  them  have  nothing  hut  river,  and  they  die!" 
—  Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  1179.  This,  if  not  allegory,  is  some- 
thing" better. 

Bunyan  can  be  odd  and  awful ;  singular  and  solemn,  at 
the  same  time.  "  A  Christian  bridles  his  lusts  :  but  it  is 
no  strange  thing  to  see  Professors  bridled  and  saddled, 
yea  ridden  by  the  very  Devil  from  lust  to  sin,  and  from 
one  vanity  to  another." — Vol.  iv.  p.  2154.  "  There  is 
a  profession  that  stands  with  an  unsanctified  heart  and 
life :  but  the  sin  of  such  will  overpoise  their  salvation. 
The  sin-end  being  the  heaviest  end  of  the  scale,  they  tilt 
over  into  perdition,  notwithstanding  their  glorious  pro- 
fession."— P.  2151.  "  Sirs,  give  me  leave  to  set  my 
Trumpet  to  your  ears  a  little.  A  prating  tongue  will 
not  unlock  the  gates  of  heaven,  nor  blind  the  eyes  of 
the  judge.  Look  to  it !  Covetous  Professor,  that  usest 
religion  to  bring  grist  to  thy  mill, — look  to  it !  Christian, 
take  heed  that  no  sin  in  thy  life  goes  unrepented  of.  That 
will  make  a  fiaw  in  thy  evidences — a  wound  in  thy  con- 
science— a  breach  in  thy  peace;  and,  a  hundred  to  one,  il 
it  do  not  drive  all  the  grace  in  thee  into  so  dark  a  corner 
of  thy  heart,  that  thou  shalt  not  be  able  for  a  time  to  find 
it  out  for  thy  comfort,  even  by  all  the  torches  that  are 
burning  in  the  Gospel."— P.  2180. 

Some  of  these  hints  and  illustrations  are  anything  but 
conceits.  The  form  of  them  is  singular,  but  the  spirit  of 
them  is  both  philosophical  and  heart-searching.  I  have 
introduced  them  in  this  Chapter,  however,  in  order  to 
shew  the  cast  of  Bvmyan's  mind.  He  is  never  odd,  for  the 
sake  of  mere  peculiarity;  nor  whimsical,  from  levity.  Even 
when  he  is  vudgar,  he  is  either  not  at  all  aware  of  it,  or  it 
is  in  order  to  "  gain  "  the  vulgar.  When  he  puns,  it  is  to 
point  a  maxim,  not  to  win  a  smile.  He  stoops,  only  to 
conquer.  He  himself  knew  well  both  his  modes  and 
motives,  and  sung, 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  449 

'  As  for  the  inconsiderableness 
Of  things,  by  which  I  do  my  mind  express, 
May  I  by  them  but  bring  some  good  to  pass, 
As  Samson  with  the  jaw-bone  of  an  ass, 
Or  as  brave  Shamgar  with  his  ox's  goad, 
(Both  things  unmanly,  nor  for  war  in  mode) 
I  have  my  end,  though  I  myself  expose  ; 
For  God  will  have  the  glory  at  the  close." 

Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  955. 

He  said  all  this  better,  as  well  as  more  briefly,  when  he 
exclaimed  on  one  occasion,  "  Bear  with  my  plainness  when 
I  speak  against  sin : — I  would  strike  it  through  with  every 
word,  because,  else,  it  will  strike  us  through  with  many 
sorrows." — Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  2118. 

I  am  not  apologizing  for  Bunyan,  but  merely  explaining, 
in  these  remarks  upon  his  style.  Let  his  style  be  criticised, 
even  in  my  pages,  where  its  peculiarities  abound  ;  and, 
alas,  for  the  critic !  He  will  be  pitied,  however  Bunyan 
may  be  blamed.  D'Aubigne's  apology  for  Luther  will 
be  verified  by  readers  ; — "  We  must  accustom  ourselves  to 
find  him  sometimes  using  expressions  too  coarsely  vitu- 
perative for  modern  taste.  It  was  the  custom  of  the  time. 
But  we  generally  find  even  in  those  words  which  shock 
our  notions  of  propriety  in  language,  a  suitableness  and 
strength  which  redeem  their  harshness." — Hist.  Great 
Reformation,  vol.  i.  p.  316. 


3  M 


4. CO  ilFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

bunyan's  church  persecuted. 
1670. 

The  chief  persecution  of  his  own  friends,  Bunyan  himself 
has  nowhere  told, — so  far  as  I  am  aware ;  although  his 
anecdotes  of  local  Informers  are  very  explicit.  In  1670,' 
however,  his  people  were  much  harassed  by  mean  In- 
formers, and  meaner  Magistrates,  overstraining  the  Con- 
venticle Act, — if  that  be  possible.  That  Act  was  revived 
in  1669,  with  new  clauses,  and  received  the  royal  assent  in 
April,  1670.  Neal  says  of  it,  "  The  wit  of  man  could  hardly 
invent  any  thing  short  of  capital  punishment,  more  cruel  or 
inhuman."  This  is  true ;  and  therefore  Neal  ought  not  to 
have  expressed  any  wonder  that  either  Charles  II.  or  his 
conclave,  should  have  agreed  to  it.  Both  would  have 
agreed  to  anything  hostile  to  Nonconformity,  which  public 
opinion  would  have  allowed  them  to  perpetrate ;  — the 
King,  from  reckless  levity ;  and  the  Court,  from  reckless 
revenge.  Even  the  Parliament  joined  issue  with  them, 
and  introduced  a  clause  into  the  Conventicle  Act,  "  that  if 
any  dispute  should  arise  in  regard  to  the  interpretation  of 
any  part  of  the  act,  the  Judges  should  always  explain  the 
doubt  in  the  sense  least  favourable  to  conventicles ;  it 
being  the  intention  of  Parliament  entirely  to  suppress 
them/'  Hume  himself  says  of  this  clause,  that  the 
Commons  "  violated  the  plainest  and  most  established 
maxims  of  civil  policy,  —which  require  that,  in  all  criminal 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  451 

prosecutions,  favour  should  always  be  given  to  the  pri- 
soner."— Hume^  vol.  vii.  p.  457. 

In  the  space  of  one  month,  this  Act  began  to  be 
enforced  upon  Bunyan's  friends,  *'  in  and  near  the  town 
of  Bedford,"  while  he  himself  was  a  prisoner  in  Bedford 
jail.  This  appears  from  a  Narrative  published  that  very 
year.  I  have  the  original  before  me,  which  bears  date 
1670.  It  has  long-  been  a  rare  Pamphlet,  and  borne  a 
rare  price,  although  extending  only  to  fifteen  pages. 

The  noble  conduct  of  the  sufferers,  and  even  of  the 
mob,  as  evinced  in  the  follovYing  extracts,  will  be  the  more 
intelligible,  by  the  reader  bearing  in  mind,  that  Bunyan 
was  present  at  all  the  church-meetings  of  his  flock  that 
year.  This  appears  from  the  Church-book,  at  Bedford. 
And  it  is  well  known,  that  the  Jailor  gave  him  great 
liberties.  The  people  were  thus  both  counselled  and 
encouraged  by  him,  to  take  "  joyfully  the  spoiling  of  their 
goods." 

They  had  met  for  worship  on  Sabbath,  at  the  house 
of  "  one  John  Fen,  a  Haberdasher  of  Hats  ;"  when  two 
Apparitors  obtained  a  warrant  from  Justice  Foster,  to 
enter  the  house,  and  arrest  them.  Accordingly,  these 
officials  of  the  spiritual  Court,  West  and  Feckham,  forced 
them  before  the  magistrate ;  who  fined  them  all,  and  com- 
mitted the  preacher  to  prison.  Thus  Foster's  work  ended 
for  that  day.  Next  day,  however,  he  had  to  fine  both  a 
Churchwarden  and  a  Constable  five  pounds  each,  for 
refusing  to  assist  the  spiritual  functionaries  in  distraining 
the  goods  of  their  nonconformist  neighbours. — P.  4. 

Still,  the  game  was  only  beginning.  Battison,  another 
Churchwarden,  tried  to  levy  a  fine  of  ten  pounds  upon  a 
Maltster ;  but  none  of  the  Constables  would  help  to  break 
open  the  door  of  the  Malt-house.  The  mob  also  tied  a 
couis  tail  to  his  back ;  and  so  hooted  and  hallooed  him, 
that  he  was  glad  to  leave  Bardolf,  the  maltster,  for  a 
time. 


452  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

He  was  not  much  more  successful  at  Covington's,  the 
Grocer,  where  he  had  only  to  distrain  for  five  shilling's. 
Battison  himself  had  to  seize  a  brass  kettle  ;  for  none  of 
the  officers  would  distrain.  Indeed,  the  worthy  Warden 
had  to  wait  "  two  hours,"  before  sixpence  would  bribe  a 
boy  to  carry  the  kettle  to  his  Inn.  Even  when  it  reached 
the  Inn,  neither  Master  nor  Servants  would  allow  it  to 
enter  the  yard  ;  but  set  it  out  in  the  street ;  and  there  it 
stood,  until  an  overseer  caused  a  beggar  woman  to  carry  it 
away  at  night. — P.  4.  Thus  ended  another  day  of  the 
spiritual  Court's  crusade  at  Bedford  :  a  brass  kettle  was  all 
the  spoil ! 

Next  day,  however,  their  worships,  the  Justices,  "  un- 
derstanding how  Battison  was  discouraged  in  his  work  by 
the  backwardness  of  the  other  officers,  and  the  open  dis- 
countenance of  the  other  people,  commanded  the  doors  to 
be  broken  open,  and  to  levy  the  distresses  ;  and  promised 
to  bear  them  harmless.  Immediately  old  Battison,  with  a 
file  of  soldiers,  in  the  middle  of  market-time,  advanced 
again  to  the  Malt- House,  and  breaks  open  the  doors :  but 
not  without  long  time  and  trouble ;  all  the  people  refusing 
to  lend  either  bars  or  hammers.  Fourteen  quarters  of 
Malt  were  distrained :  but  it  was  night  before  he  could 
carry  them  away ;  for  although  the  market-place  was 
thronged  with  Porters,  yet  none  of  them  would  assist. 
They  left  their  fares  ;  some  of  them  saying,  *  they  would 
be  hung,  drawn,  and  quartered,  before  they  would  assist  in 
that  work.'  For  which  cause  the  Justices  committed  two 
of  them  (all  they  could  catch)  to  the  jail."  So  ended  the 
second  crusade  of  the  spiritual  Court ! 

"  Next  day,  being  Lord's  Day,  the  fines  were  doubled 
upon  the  Meeters,  by  another  warrant  from  Foster,"  and 
the  Meeters  were  forced  into  the  Swan  Inn,  where  they 
were  kept  from  "  ten  of  the  clock  in  the  morning,  till  four 
of  the  clock  in  the  afternoon."  Then  their  names  were 
taken  by  the  Justices,  and  themselves  set  at  liberty.  "  Next 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  453 

morning  Mr.  Foster,  the  Justice  (he  was  also  the  Com- 
missary's deputy),  appears  early  in  the  streets,  with  old 
Battison  and  the  two  Apparitors,  a  file  of  soldiers,  and  some 
constables,  to  see  the  fines  levied  upon  the  Meeters'  goods." 
He  sent  also  for  many  of  the  Tradesmen  to  assist  him  in  his 
holy  war :  but,  Lo,  "  most  of  the  tradesmen,  journeymen, 
labourers  and  servants"  had  either  left  the  town  or  hid 
themselves,  to  avoid  his  call.  The  worthy  Deputy  found 
the  Town  "  so  thin  of  people,  that  it  looked  more  like  a 
country  village  than  a  Corporation ;  and  the  shops  being- 
generally  shut  down,  it  seemed  like  a  place  visited  with  the 
Pesty  where  usually  is  written  upon  the  door,  '  Lord  have 
mercy  upon  us.' " — P.  6.  It  was,  remember.  Bun  van's 
flock,  which  had  this  mighty  influence  upon  their  neigh- 
bours. Bedford  thought,  and  rightly,  that  it  was  discredit 
enough  for  the  town,  to  have  Bunyan  himself  in  prison. 

Foster's  first  attempt  was  at  a  Cutler's :  but  the  house 
being  "  visited  with  small-pox,  the  officers  declined  en- 
tering." From  hence  he  went  to  a  Shoemaker's;  and, 
besides  levying  for  five  shillings,  imposed  another  fine  of 
one  shilling,  because  Crispin  would  not  say  whether  or  not 
he  "  had  been  at  Church  the  day  before."  Then  a  Heel- 
Maker  was  deprived  of  three  carts'  load  of  heel  and  last 
wood;  of  more  value  than  any  of  his  household  goods. 
This  was  taken,  to  pay  a  fine  of  two  pounds.  Next  a 
Tanner  had  his  "  best  wearing  coat  distrained  by  the 
immediate  order  of  Mr.  Foster,"  for  a  fine  of  five  shillings 
incurred,  not  by  himself,  but  by  his  "  better  half."  Then 
the  Blacksmith  lost  all  his  anvils,  as  well  as  many  locks 
and  shovels,  and  would  have  had  his  "  forge-bellows  pulled 
down,  if  Battison's  itch  for  better  prices  in  other  places " 
had  not  called  him  off". 

The  Thermopylae  of  this  grand  field  day,  to  Foster,  was 
at  the  Pipe-Makers.  There  they  "  hastened  ;"  for  Thomas 
Arthur  had  six  pounds  to  pay.  Incorrigible  Bunyanite^ 
— the  Pipe-Maker  locked  all  his  doors  in  the  face  of  the 


454  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

functionaries  of  the  spiritual  Court!  What  Deputy  of  a 
Commissary  could  brook  such  contempt  ?  Not  Justice 
Foster.  He  broke  in  the  door,  and  distrained  "  all  the 
goods  within  doors  and  without."  "  The  said  Arthur 
desired  to  know  how  much  money  he  had  distrained  for  ? 
To  whom  the  said  Mr.  Foster  replied,  for  Eleven  Pounds. 
Whereupon  Thomas  Arthur  desired  (Bunyan-like  again) 
to  see  the  Warrant :  which  being  produced,  he  seeing 
himself  therein  but  for  six  pounds,  told  Mr.  Foster  so :  to 
which  Mr.  Foster  answered,  that  there  was  five  pound 
more  for  keeping  his  door  locked.  When  Thomas  perceived 
that  Mr.  Foster  would  distrain  all  his  goods,  he  said.  Sir, 
what  shall  my  children  do  ?  Shall  they  starve  ?"  This 
would  have  been  both  a  startling  and  a  touching  question 
to  the  functionary  of  any  other  court  but  the  Ecclesiastical. 
It  did  not,  however,  disconcert  the  Deputy  in  the  least. 
*'  Mr.  Foster  replied,  that  so  long  as  he  (the  Father)  was 
a  7'ehely  the  children  Tuusf  starve."  This  answer  was  worthy 
of  the  spiritual  Court  itself.  The  fact  is,  that  conclave 
knew  well  from  their  own  temperament,  of  what  stuff  to 
make  Commissaries,  Deputies,  and  Apparitors.  Accord- 
ingly, "  Batteson  and  the  two  Apparitors,  with  a  file  of 
Musqueteers,  and  a  cart,  carried  away  whatever  household 
goods  they  thought  fit,  and  all  the  wood  for  the  burning  of 
a  kiln  of  pipes  ready  set." — P.  7. 

"  Mr.  Foster  having  done  his  work  at  the  Pipe-Maker's, 
&c.  passed  in  haste  to  the  house  of  Mrs.  Tilney ;  a  widow, 
a  gentlewoman  well  descended,  and  of  a  good  estate,  who 
was  fined  Twenty  pounds  :  and  to  make  her  exemplary  in 
suffering,  Mr.  Foster  himself,  being  attended  by  his  public 
Notary,  would  see  the  fine  effectually  levied  upon  her 
goods.  And  indeed  the  same  was  effectually  done  j  inso- 
much that  the  Widow  was  forced  to  borrow  sheets  of  her 
neighbours  to  lie  in.  She  was  forced  to  spread  these  sheets 
she  borrowed,  on  a  bed  and  bolster  of  another's  left  in  her 
house ;  they  did  not  leave  one  feather-bed  of  her  own. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  455 

As  for  the  value  of  the  goods  taken  away,  it  is  supposed 
to  be  betwixt  forty  and  fifty  pounds.  Yet  the  said  Mrs. 
Tilney  was  more  troubled  at  the  crying  and  sighing  of  her 
poor  neighbours,  who  were  much  affected  with  her  suf- 
ferings, she  being  very  charitable,  than  for  the  loss  of  her 
goods,  which  she  took  very  cheerfully.  And  so  the 
officers  left  her,  having  finished  that  day's  work." — 
P.  9. 

Mrs.  Tilney  removed  soon  after  this  to  London,  where 
her  son-in-law,  a  Mr.  Blakey,  was  a  Minister.  She  is  "  the 
dearly,  beloved  sister,"  of  whom  Dr.  Southey  says,  "  the 
very  Baptists  of  Bunyan's  congregation,  and  at  a  time  too 
when  Bunyan  was  their  pastor,  interdicted  from  communi- 
cating with  a  Church  of  which  her  son-in-law  was  a 
minister,  because  he  was  not  a  Baptist."  She  was  inter- 
dicted, but  not  for  this  reason.  The  interdict,  and  its 
explanation,  will  be  found  in  the  Chapter,  "  Bunyan's 
Pastoral  Letters." 

Foster,  however,  had  not  all  these  church-militant 
laurels  to  himself.  Sir  George  Blundell  also  signalized 
himself  in  the  holy  war,  by  issuing  a  warrant  on  the  report 
of  the  talk  of  "  a  little  girl,"  who  said  to  the  wife  of  a  vile 
Informer,  "  that  there  had  been  a  meeting  at  the  house  of 
Thomas  Thorowgood  in  Cotton-End."  The  Meetingers 
were,  accordingly,  brought  before  the  Justices  at  the  Swan 
Inn,  who  promised  to  acquit  them,  if  "  they  would  confess 
who  was  preacher."  This  they  refused  to  do,  and  were 
severally  fined.  It  is  highly  probable  that  Bunyan  himself 
was  the  preacher :  for  by  this  time  the  tyranny  of  the 
Justices  startled  the  Mayor  of  Bedford.  Bunyan  was, 
therefore,  not  unlikely  to  slip  out  of  the  Jail  at  this  crisis, 
especially  as  he  had  the  opportunity  :  for  as  the  Mayor 
was  on  the  side  of  lenity,  the  kind  Jailor  would  not  be 
very  strict. 

Only  two  of  the  victims  sued  for  a  mitigation  of  the 
fine ;  and  one   of  them,  the  Honourable  Baronet  "  beat 


456  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

well  for  his  pains/'  and  the  other  he  left  to  the  tender 
mercies  of  the  Informer. 

One  of  the  Informers,  apparently  a  thorough  miscreant 
(judging  from  the  account  of  him  in  the  Narrative),  was 
seized  with  a  violent  haemorrhage,  whilst  officiating  as  an 
Appurtenant  at  a  visitation  at  Ampthill.  On  his  death- 
bed, he  alternately  "  threatened  the  Fanatics,"  and  cursed 
Foster  "  for  setting  him  in  office."  His  death  was  so 
awful,  that  no  one  would  even  let  a  carriage  to  convey  his 
body  to  Turvey :  but  it  had  to  be  *'  sent  in  a  cart." — 
P.  13. 

Such  was  the  weight  of  Bunyan's  influence  in  Bedford, 
and  such  the  estimation  in  which  his  Church  was  held  in 
the  Town.  It  is,  to  me,  equally  pleasing  to  find,  that 
none  of  the  Clergy  of  Bedford  were  parties  to  this  shameful 
outrage.  It  ought  also  to  be  remembered  here,  that  in 
the  space  of  two  years  afterwards,  Bunyan  bought  the 
ground  on  which  his  Chapel  was  built. 

The  Narrative  from  which  these  facts  are  gleaned,  is 
conciliatory  in  its  tone,  as  well  as  faithful  in  its  rebukes. 
It  is  even  complimentary  to  the  higher  ranks.  The  writer 
says,  "  all  unquiet  storms,  thunderings  and  lightnings,  are 
in  and  from  the  lower  regions  :  but  among  the  higher 
spheres  and  more  celestial  bodies,  all  things  are  always 
peaceable  and  serene ;  and  by  their  influence  the  other 
raging  and  noxious  disturbances  are  quelled  and  scattered. 
And  such  an  end  of  our  present  disquietments  do  we  hope 
and  pray  for." 

This  starry  compliment  does  not,  however,  prevent  the 
Author  from  calling  either  men  or  things  by  their  right 
names.  He  boldly  avows  that  one  object  of  his  writing  is, 
*'  to  demand  of  our  Legislators,  whether "  such  doings 
"  be  the  garment  of  their  ofi'spring  ?"  He  declares  in  his 
Preface  that  "  it  is  plain,  that  in  despite  of  Magna  Charta, 
and  in  defiance  of  all  Laws  and  Rules  of  righteousness, 
neighbourhood,  and  humanity "  certain  persons  "  resolve 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  457 

to  ruin  the  Nonconformists,  though  in  nowise  able  to  com- 
pensate for  the  King-  and  Kingdom's  damage  thereby.** 
Without  ceremony  or  circumlocution  he  proclaims  the 
fact,  that  *'  the  immediate  Persecutors  are  the  scum  of  the 
people,  and  chiefly  the  Appurtenants  of  the  Commissaries' 
Court."  Who  he  means  by  "the  most fm'ward  instrument 
of  this  sort,"  of  whom  he  says,  *'  he  is  one  who  hath 
openly  avowed  his  esteem  for  Popery  above  other  re- 
ligions," I  do  not  pretend  to  guess.  I  only  know,  that 
the  cap  fitted  the  King's  brother.  The  Author  was,  how- 
ever, as  loyal  as  any  honest  man  ought  to  be.  "  Councils 
for  public  good,"  he  says,  *'  are  the  province  of  our 
superiors.  Keady  obedience,  or  peaceable  sufferings^  are 
the  lot  of  private  men.  This  people  (Bunyan's)  have  by 
their  peaceable  deportment  for  many  years,  given  all  the 
satisfaction  that  any  men,  in  like  circumstances,  are  able 
to  give  of  their  harmless  and  quiet  inclinations.  And 
they  intend,  by  the  Grace  of  God,  not  to  gratify  their 
adversaries  by  transgressing  the  obligation  of  their  own 
consciences,  which  imposes  a  necessity  upon  them  to  prac- 
tise those  things  in  their  Christian  profession  for  which 
they  are  made  obnoxious  to  so  great  sufferings,  and  gives 
them  a  suppcyrtment  under  them." 

In  harmony  with  this  principle,  he  adds,  "  The  end  of 
publishing  this  Account,  is  to  prepare  others,  of  the  same 
way  and  practice  in  the  things  of  Religion  with  the  persons 
so  roughly  treated  at  Bedford,  not  to  think  strange  of  the 
like  trials  when  they  befal  them ;  and  to  bear  them 
patiently,  quietly,  and  peaceably,  notwithstanding  all  pro- 
vocations to  the  contrary." — P.  14. 

It  deserves  to  be  mentioned,  that  this  pamphlet  has 
neither  the  name  nor  the  place  of  the  Printer.  Its  Title- 
page  runs  thus,  "  A  true  and  impartial  Narrative  of  some 
Illegal  and  Arbitrary  proceedings,  by  certain  Justices  of 
the  Peace,  and  others,  against  several  innocent  and  peace- 
able Nonconformists  in  and  near  the  town  of  Bedford, 
3n 


458  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

upon  pretence  of  putting  in  execution  the  late  Act  against 
Conventicles  :  together  with  a  brief  account  of  the  sudden 
and  strange  death  of  the  Grand  Informer,  and  one  of  the 
most  violent  malicious  Persecutors  against  these  poor 
people.  Published  for  general  information.  Printed  in  the 
year  1670." 

Such  were  the  first  fruits  of  the  revival  of  the  Con- 
venticle Act.  That  Act  was,  however,  merely  a  new 
form  of  the  old  spirit  of  the  dominant  party.  They  began 
in  a  similar  style,  the  moment  they  got  into  power.  No 
Venner  had  appeared  in  either  town  or  country,  when 
the  Baptists  were  singled  out  as  victims  of  intolerance. 
The  King  was  but  just  seated,  in  1660,  when  the  Lincoln- 
shire Baptists  had  to  tell  him,  "  We  have  been,  O  King, 
much  abused  when  we  pass  in  the  streets,  and  sit  in  our 
houses ;  being  threatened  to  be  hanged,  if  but  heard  pray- 
ing in  our  families  ;  and  disturbed  in  our  waiting  upon 
God  by  uncivil  heating  at  our  doors,  and  sounding  of 
horns.  Yea,  we  have  been  stoned  when  going  to  our 
meetings;  the  windows  have  been  struck  down  with  stones. 
We  have  been  taken,  and  imprisoned.  The  rage  of  our 
adversaries  has  been  augmented,  O  King,  by  hearing  us 
abused  in  open  Court  by  some  who  sat  on  the  bench  of 
Justice.  And  now  they  have  indicted  many  of  us  at  the 
Sessions,  and  intend,  as  we  are  informed,  to  impose  on  us 
a  penalty  of  Twenty  pounds  per  month,  for  not  coming  to 
hear  such  men  as  they  provide  for  us :  of  whose  principles 
and  practices  we  could  give  a  most  sad  and  doleful  ac- 
count ; — and  yet,  O  King,  a  most  true  relation."  This 
early  appeal  was  drawn  up,  and  most  likely  presented,  by 
the  celebrated  Thomas  Grantham  ;  and  the  facts  of  it 
are  appealed  to  by  Henry  Jessey  in  his  "  Loud  Call  to 
England,"  in  1660.  It  was  not,  therefore,  the  insurrec- 
tion of  the  Fifth  Monarchy  men,  that  originated  this 
persecution  of  the  Baptists. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  459 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

BUNYAN*S    PASTORAL    LETTERS. 

I  HAVE  been  unable  to  procure,  or  even  to  hear  of,  any- 
private  Letters  of  Bunyan's.  I  am  unwilling  to  believe, 
however,  that  none  exist :  for  although  a  hundred  and  fifty 
years  have  elapsed  since  his  death,  that  length  of  time  has 
not  destroyed  them,  if  there  were  any  in  1688.  If  any 
exist,  they  are  heir-looms^  wherever  they  may  be.  I  am 
not  without  hope,  therefore,  that  this  volume  may  bring 
some  of  his  private  Letters  to  light,  before  my  standard 
edition  of  his  Pilgrim's  Progress  is  finished.  The  descend- 
ants of  Sir  John  Shorer,  Mayor  of  London,  in  1 668  ;  and 
of  Mr.  Strudwick,  then  of  Snow  Hill ;  and  of  the  family 
in  Bedfordshire  for  whose  sake  Bunyan  went  his  last 
journey  to  Reading,  owe  it,  if  any  of  them  remain,  to  the 
memory  of  their  ancestors,  as  well  as  to  him,  to  search 
and  see  whether  the  blank  can  be  filled  up.  Dr.  Southey 
says,  that  "  the  Braziers^  Company  would  deem  itself 
honoured  if  it  could  shew  the  name  of  John  Bunyan  upon 
its  rolls."  It  would  be  a  still  higher  honour  for  any 
family,  to  shew  by  Letters  that  he  was  the  friend  of  their 
great-grandfather.  What  if  an  American  family  should  be 
\}ciQ,  first  to  claim  this  distinction?  I  have  reason  to  think 
that  Bunyan  corresponded  with  some  of  the  first  Baptist 
settlers.  I  know  that  some  of  them  wrote  to  him  about 
their  own  prospects  in  America,  as  well  as  about  the 
popularity  of  his  Pilgrim. 


460  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

I  throw  out  these  hints  with  much  solicitude.  In  the 
mean  time,  the  public  must  be  contented  with  the  following 
Pastoral  Letters,  even  although  the  authorship  of  them  is, 
except  in  one,  but  partly  Bunyan's.  They  bear,  however, 
more  than  his  signature.  They  breathe  his  spirit  through- 
out, and  sparkle  occasionally  with  his  own  gems  set  in  his 
own  Saxon. 

The  first  Letter  is  to  the  *'  certain  Anthony  Harring- 
ton," as  Dr.  Southey  calls  him,  "  whom  GifFord  thought 
often  of  killing,  because  he  was  a  leading  man  "  amongst 
the  Dissenters  of  Bedford.  He  was  driven  from  his  family 
by  a  Writ,  de  Excom.  Capiend.  in  1669  ;  but  returned  in 
1681.  "  Spend  not  your  vacant  hours  as  they  that  wept 
for  Tammuz,"  stamps  it  Bunyan*s,  quite  as  certainly  as 
his  signature. 

"  Dearly  Beloved  Brother, 

"  Grace,  Mercy,  and  Peace  be  with  you  always  by 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord,  to  the  praise  of  God  the  Father, 
and  your  everlasting  consolation  and  increase  of  hope  in 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  to  whom  be  glory  for  ever  and 
ever.  Amen.  Blessed  be  God  and  the  Father  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  who  by  him  hath  called  us  unto  his  kingdom 
and  glory ;  to  the  praise  of  the  glory  of  his  grace,  wherein 
he  hath  made  us  accepted  in  the  Beloved,  in  whom  we 
have  redemption  through  his  blood,  even  the  forgiveness 
of  our  sins,  according  to  the  riches  of  his  grace. 

"  With  length  of  days  is  understanding  ;  your  long 
progress  in  the  ways  of  God  and  our  Father,  hath  given 
you  rich  experience  of  that  grace  that  is  not  only  laid  up 
for  us  in  Christ,  but  to  be  brought  unto  us  when  he  sliall 
be  revealed  from  heaven  with  all  his  saints.  Wherefore, 
Brother,  make  it  manifest  that  you  are  one  of  those  scribes 
we  read  of  that  is  not  only  instructed  into  but  unto  the 
kingdom  of  God.  Let  it  be  seen  by  all  your  ways  that 
the  secrets  of  God  are  with  you,  and  that  you  have  in 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  461 

store  things  new  and  old  in  your  heart,  as  in  God's 
treasure  house.  Gravity  becometh  the  ancients  in  the 
house  of  God.  Fathers  should  be  examples  unto  children. 
We  are  comforted  in  the  remembrance  of  thee,  brother, 
while  we  consider  that  notwithstanding  thy  natural  in- 
firmity, yet  thou  prizest  good  conscience  above  thine  own 
enjoyments.  And  since  thou  couldest  not  with  quiet 
enjoy  it  at  home  ;  thou  hast  left  thy  concerns  in  this 
world  (though  in  much  hazard  and  danger)  that  thou 
mayest  keep  it  abroad.  But  remember  the  good  word 
of  God ;  '  No  man  shall  desire  thy  land,  when  thou  shalt 
go  to  appear  before  the  Lord  thy  God,  thrice  in  the  year.' 
Wherefore  let  neither  the  remembrance  of  what  thou  hast 
left,  nor  thought  of  its  being  subject  to  casualty,  either 
distract  thee  in  thy  communion  with  God,  or  prevail  with 
thee  to  do  aught  against  good  conscience,  or  unworthy  thy 
grey  hairs ;  which  are  then  the  glory  of  old  men,  when 
found  in  the  way  of  righteousness.  John  saith,  I  have  no 
greater  joy  than  to  hear  that  my  children  walk  in  truth. 
Having  always  a  good  conscience  towards  God,  and 
towards  men :  this  is  armour  of  righteousness  both  on  the 
right  hand,  and  on  the  left.  You,  Brother  Harrington, 
have  lived  to  see  the  slippery  and  unstable  nature  that  is 
in  earthly  things  ;  wherefore  we  beseech  you  to  expect  no 
more  therefrom  than  the  word  of  God  hath  promised : 
which  is  as  much  in  little  as  in  much  thereof,  if  not  more 
in  many  respects.  He  that  gathered  much,  had  nothing 
over,  and  he  that  gathered  little  had  no  lack.  While 
Israel  sat  by  the  flesh-pots  in  Egypt,  they  had  no  manna, 
they  drank  not  the  water  out  of  the  rock,  these  things 
were  reserved  for  their  wilderness  condition  ;  to  support 
them  in  the  waste  howling  wilderness.  We  speak  this  to 
encourage  you,  knowing  you  are  subject  to  temptation 
with  us.  For  we  hope  it  is  because  God  loveth  you,  that 
he  hath  driven  you  from  your  incumbrances,  that  you  may 
have  occasion  before  you  die,  therein  to  solace   yourself 


462  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

with  your  God,  and  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  we  mean  that 
you  may  do  it  with  more  leisure  and  less  distraction,  than 
when  the  lowing-  of  the  oxen  had  continual  sound  in  your 
ears.  Man's  life  consisteth  not  in  the  abundance  of  the 
things  he  possesseth :  wherefore  being-  denied  a  fulness 
here  is  no  token  of  God's  displeasure  against  our  spiritual 
welfare,  but  rather,  yea  always  the  contrary.  Let  not 
these  dispensations  then  discourage  and  distress  your 
mind :  bless  God  for  the  hope  that  is  laid  up  for  you  in 
heaven,  whereof  you  have  heard  before  in  the  word  of  the 
truth  of  the  gospel. 

"  God  is  wise  and  doth  all  things  for  the  best,  for  them 
that  love  him.  You  know  not  yet,  but  you  may  know  after- 
ward, what  sins  and  temptations  God  hath  prevented,  by 
driving  you  thus  from  your  habitation ;  and  how  hereby 
he  hath  made  way  for  the  exercise  of  some  graces,  that 
could  not  so  well  discover  themselves  in  their  virtues, 
when  you  was  here.  How  subject  we  are  to  dote  upon 
and  to  be  entangled  with  the  snares,  that  lay  couched  and 
hid  in  this  present  world,  you  have  great  experience  with 
us.  The  which  because  God  disliketh,  it  being  uncomely 
for  the  men  of  another  world,  therefore  after  God  plucketh 
down  and  pulleth  up  what  we  build  and  plant.  It  was 
customary  with  our  Fathers  to  dwell  in  tents,  and  houses 
made  with  boughs ;  for  they  sought  a  city  that  hath  found- 
ations, whose  maker  and  builder  is  God.  When  we  are 
desolate,  then  we  trust  in  God,  and  make  prayers  and 
supplications  to  him  night  and  day.  God  help  you  there- 
fore, that  you  spend  your  vacant  hours  not  as  they  that 
wept  for  Tammuz,  but  as  they  who  plainly  confess  to  all 
they  are  strangers  and  pilgrims  in  the  earth. 

"  Brother,  we  write  not  but  by  way  of  exhortation, 
beseeching  you  that  you  call  to  remembrance  your  vows 
and  tears,  when  you  have  been  in  distress ;  and  that  you 
would  arm  yourself  with  that  mind  you  read  of,  Heb.  xii. 
2,  3,  9,  that  you  may  have  your  garments  always  white. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  463 

and  that  your  head  may  lack  no  ointment ;  you  cannot  be 
there  where  no  eyes  are  upon  you ;  you  are  a  spectacle  to 
God,  ang-els,  and  men ;  and  being-  exalted  to  the  profession 
|of  Christianity,  and  also  to  the  communion  of  God  and 
saints,  you  can  neither  stand  nor  fall  by  yourself,  but  the 
name  and  cause  and  people  of  God,  shall  in  some  sense 
stand  and  fall  with  you ;  yea,  let  us  have  joy  in  thee, 
brother,  refresh  our  spirits  in  the  Lord.  We  have  con- 
fidence in  thee,  that  thou  wilt  be  circumspect  to  the 
adorning  of  the  doctrine  of  God  our  Saviour.  Keep  close 
to  the  words  of  faith  and  sound  doctrine,  wherein  thou 
hast  been  instructed ;  and  shun  profane  and  vain  babbling-, 
not  having  to  do  with  men  of  corrupt  minds,  that  thy 
profession  be  not  canker-eaten.      Hear  the  word  of  God 

I  with  diligence,  and  pray  much  for  the  spirit  of  wisdom 
and  revelation  in  the  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ.     And 
*  remember  that  God  hath  said,  Though  there  were  any  of 
;  you  cast  out  to  the  uttermost  part  of  heaven,  yet  will  I 
I  gather  them  from  thence,  and  will   bring  them  into  the 
place,  that  I  have  chosen  to  set  my  name  there. 

*'  Finally,  brother.  Farewell,  Grace  be  with  thee,  Amen. 

"  Written  by  the  appointment  of  the  congregation  to 

which  you  stand  related  in  the   faith  of  the  Gospel,  and 

subscribed    with    their    consent    by    the    hands    of    your 

brethren, 

"  John  Bunyan,"  &c. 

(No  date.) 

The  Minister  to  whom  the  following  Letter  is  addressed, 
Mr.  Wilson  of  Hitchin,  became  joint  Editor  with  Mr. 
Chandler  of  Bedford,  of  the  folio  edition  of  Bunyan's 
works,  in  1692. — Ivimey. 

"  Our  dearly  beloved  Brother  Wilson, 

"  Grace,  mercy,  and  peace  be  with  thee  through 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Amen.  Blessed  be  God,  and  the 
Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  Father  of  all  mercy. 


464 


LIFE    OF    BUN Y AN, 


and  the  God  of  all  comfort,  for  the  abundant  grace 
bestowed  on  thee,  brother ;  and  for  that  thou  art  so  called, 
so  preserved  in  Christ  Jesus ;  who,  we  trust,  will  preserve 
thee  to  his  kingdom  and  glory  :  to  whom  be  honour  and 
power  everlasting. 

"  We  are  comforted  in  thee,  our  dearly  beloved,  when 
we  remember  that  from  a  child,  thou  hast  known  the  holy 
Scriptures  j  which  are  able  to  make  thee  wise  unto  salva- 
tion, through  faith  in  Jesus  Christ ;  which  faith  was  also 
in  thy  tender  years  fruitful  and  flourishing  in  thy  gracious 
heart,  to  the  great  comfort  of  us  thy  brethren,  and  the 
glory  of  that  grace  that  hath  translated  us  out  of  the  king- 
dom of  Satan  into  the  kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ. 

"It  is  also  joy  to  us  to  behold,  that  notwithstanding 
thy  lot  is  cast  in  a  place  of  high  transgression ;  yet  thou 
shewest  out  of  a  good  conversation  thy  works  with  meek- 
ness of  wisdom.  God  help  thee,  brother,  to  remember 
the  days  of  thy  youth ;  the  first  ways  of  David  were  best. 
There  are  but  few  can  say  as  Caleb  :  *  As  my  strength  was 
forty  years  since,  so  it  is  now,  both  to  go  out  and  come  in 
before  the  people  of  God.' 

*'  *Tis  also  said  of  Moses  at  the  day  of  his  death,  his 
natural  force  was  not  abated  :  neither  did  his  eyes  wax 
dim.  Brother,  be  always  looking  into  the  perfect  law  of 
liberty  :  and  continue  therein.  The  customs  of  the  people 
are  vain ;  learn  therefore  of  no  man  any  of  the  deeds  of 
darkness ;  we  must  give  an  account  of  ourselves  to  God. 
It  argueth  not  only  wisdom,  but  great  grace,  when  the  soul 
makes  all  lie  level  to  the  word  and  Spirit  of  God  :  when  he 
scorneth  and  counteth  that  unworthy  his  affections,  that 
hath  not  on  it  a  stamp  of  the  things  of  heaven.  It  is  said 
of  the  children  of  Israel,  '  They  saw  God  and  did  eat  and 
drink.'  That  is  the  right  eating  and  drinking  indeed. 
The  glory  of  young  men,  is  theh'  strength  to  overcome 
the  wicked  one.  *  My  son,'  says  Solomon,  '  if  thy  heart  be 
wise,  my  heart  shall  rejoice,  even  mine.' 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  465 

**  Now,  brother,  God  hath  not  only  counted  you  worthy 
to  believe  in  his  Son,  but  also  to  profess  him  before  the 
world.  Wear  his  name  in  your  forehead.  They  that 
Christ  will  own  for  his  servants  for  ever,  must  say  plainly, 
I  love  my  Master  :  they  must  declare  plainly,  they  seek  a 
country.  The  first  note  of  the  peril  of  the  last  times  is, 
*  Men  shall  be  lovers  of  their  own  selves,  covetous,  proud,* 
&c.  '  O  man  of  God !  fly  these  things,  and  follow  after 
righteousness,  godliness,  faith,  love,  patience,  meekness. 
Fight  the  good  fight  of  faith,  lay  hold  on  eternal  life ; 
whereunto  thou  art  also  called,  and  hast  witnessed  a  good 
profession  before  many  witnesses.' 

"  'Tis  said  of  Hananiah,  '  he  feared  God  above  many.* 
God  continue  our  joy  of  thee,  brother.  Our  hope  of  thee 
is  steadfast,  through  grace ;  trusting  in  the  Lord  that  he 
that  hath  begun  a  good  work  in  thee  will  perfect  it  until 
the  day  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  a  strange  sight  to  behold 
those  who  did  feed  delicately  to  be  desolate  in  the  street; 
and  they  that  were  brought  up  in  scarlet  to  embrace 
dunghills.  We  speak  not  these  things  to  shame  thee,  but 
as  our  beloved  brother  we  warn  thee.  O  Timothy,  keep 
that  which  is  committed  to  thy  trust ;  watch  and  be  sober. 
And  if  thou  be  inclined  to  sleep,  let  that  of  Delilah  rouse 
thee  ;   *  The  Philistines  be  upon  thee,  Samson  !* 

"  Grace  be  with  thee.  The  Lord  is  at  hand.  Behold 
the  Judge  stands  at  the  door.  Amen.  Even  so  come, 
Lord  Jesus. 

"  Written  by  the  appointment,  and  subscribed  in  the 
name  and  with  the  consent  of  the  congregation. 

"  1669."  «  John  Bunyan,*'  &c. 

TO  bunyan's  spiritual  children. 

Bedford  Jail. 
"  Children,  Grace  be  with  you.    Amen.     I  being  taken 
from  you  in  presence,  and  so  tied  up  that  I  cannot  perform 
that  duty,  that  from  God  doth  lie  upon  me  to  you-ward, 
3  o 


466  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

for  your  farther  edifying  and  building-  up  in  faith  and 
holiness,  &c.  yet  that  you  may  see  my  soul  hath  fatherly 
care  and  desire  after  your  spiritual  and  everlasting*  welfare, 
I  now  once  again,  as  before,  from  the  top  of  Shenir  and 
Hermon,  so  now  from  the  Lion's  den,  and  from  the 
mountain  of  the  Leopards,  do  look  yet  after  you  all, 
greatly  longing  to  see  your  safe  arrival  into  the  desired 
haven. 

"  I  thank  God  upon  every  remembrance  of  you  ;  and 
rejoice,  even  while  I  stick  between  the  teeth  of  the  lions 
in  the  wilderness,  that  the  grace  and  mercy,  and  knowledge 
of  Christ  our  Saviour,  which  God  hath  bestowed  upon 
you,  with  abundance  of  faith  and  love ;  your  hungerings 
and  thirstings  after  farther  acquaintance  with  the  Father, 
in  the  Son ;  your  tenderness  of  heart,  your  trembling  at 
sin,  your  sober  and  holy  deportment  also,  before  both  God 
and  men,  is  a  great  refreshment  to  me  ;  for  '  you  are  my 
glory  and  joy/ 

"  I  have  sent  you  here  enclosed  "  (in  his  Life)  "'  a  drop 
of  that  honey  that  I  have  taken  out  of  the  carcase  of  a 
lion,  I  have  eaten  thereof  myself,  and  am  much  refreshed 
thereby.  (Temptations,  when  we  meet  them  at  first,  are 
as  the  lion  that  roared  upon  Samson  ;  but  if  we  overcome 
them,  the  next  time  we  shall  find  a  nest  of  honey  within 
them.)  The  Philistines  understand  me  not.  It  is  some- 
thing of  a  relation  of  the  work  of  God  upon  my  soul,  even 
from  the  very  first  till  now,  wherein  you  may  perceive  my 
castings  down,  and  risings  up  :  for  he  woundeth,  and  his 
hands  make  whole.  It  is  written  in  the  Scripture,  '  The 
father  to  the  children  shall  make  known  the  truth  of  God.* 
Yea,  it  was  for  this  reason  I  lay  so  long  at  Sinai,  '  to  see 
the  fire,  and  the  cloud,  and  the  darkness,  that  I  might  fear 
the  Lord  all  the  days  of  my  life  upon  earth,  and  tell  of  his 
wondrous  works  to  my  children  which  we  have  heard  and 
known  and  our  fathers  have  told  us.  We  will  not  hide 
them  from  their  children,  shewing  to  the  generation  to 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  467 

come  the  praises  of  the  Lord  and  his  strength  and  his 
\Fonderful  works  that  he  hath  done.  For  he  established  a 
testimony  in  Jacob  and  appointed  a  law  in  Israel  which  he 
commanded  our  fathers  that  they  should  make  them  known 
unto  their  children.* 

*'  Moses  wrote  of  the  journeying-s  of  the  children  of 
Israel,  from  Egypt  to  the  land  of  Canaan  ;  and  commanded 
also  that  they  did  remember  their  forty  years'  travel  in  the 
wilderness.  *  Thou  shalt  remember  all  the  way  which  the 
Lord  thy  God  led  thee  these  forty  years  in  the  wilder- 
ness, to  humble  thee,  and  to  prove  thee,  and  to  know  what 
was  in  thine  heart,  whether  thou  wouldst  keep  his  com- 
mandments or  no.'  Wherefore  this  I  have  endeavoured 
to  do ;  and  not  only  so,  but  to  publish  it  also :  that,  if 
God  will,  others  may  be  put  in  remembrance  of  what 
he  hath  done  for  their  souls,  by  reading  his  work  upon 
me. 

"  It  is  profitable  for  Christians  to  be  often  calling  to 
mind  the  very  beginnings  of  grace  with  their  souls.  *  It  is 
a  night  to  be  much  observed  to  the  Lord,  for  bringing 
them  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt.  This  is  that  night  of  the 
Lord  to  be  observed  of  all  the  children  of  Israel,  in  their 
generations.'  *  O  my  God,'  saith  David,  '  my  soul  is  cast 
down  within  me ;  but  I  will  remember  thee  from  the  land 
of  Jordan,  and  of  the  Hermonites,  from  the  hill  Mizar.' 
He  remembered  also  the  lion  and  the  bear,  w^hen  he  went 
to  fight  with  the  giant  of  Gath. 

"  It  was  Paul's  accustomed  manner,  and  that,  when  tried 
for  his  life,  even  to  open  before  his  judges  the  manner  of 
his  conversion  :  He  would  think  of  that  day,  and  that  hour, 
in  which  he  first  did  meet  with  grace ;  for  he  found  it 
supported  him.  When  God  had  brought  the  children  of 
Israel  out  of  the  Red  Sea,  far  into  the  wilderness,  yet  they 
must  turn  quite  about  thither  again,  to  remember  the 
drowning  of  their  enemies  there,  for  though  they  sang  his 
praise  before,  yet  they  soon  forgat  his  works. 


468 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


"  In  this  discourse  of  mine,  you  may  see  much  ;  much  I 
say,  of  the  grace  of  God  towards  me :  I  thank  God,  I  can 
count  it  much,  for  it  was  above  my  sins  and  Satan's  temp- 
tations too.  I  can  remember  my  fears  and  doubts,  and 
sad  months,  with  comfort ;  they  are  as  the  head  of  Goliath 
in  my  hand.  There  was  nothing  to  David  like  Goliath's 
sword,  even  that  sword  that  should  have  been  sheathed  in 
his  bowels ;  for  the  very  sight  and  remembrance  of  that 
did  preach  forth  God's  deliverance  to  him.  Oh !  the 
remembrance  of  my  great  sins,  of  my  great  temptations, 
and  of  my  great  fear  of  perishing  for  ever  I  They  bring 
afresh  into  my  mind,  the  remembrance  of  my  great  help, 
my  great  supports  from  heaven,  and  the  great  grace  that 
God  extended  to  such  a  wretch  as  I. 

"  My  dear  children,  call  to  mind  the  former  days,  and 
years  of  ancient  times :  remember  also  your  songs  in  the 
night,  and  commune  with  your  own  heart ;  say  in  times  of 
distress,  *  Will  the  Lord  cast  off  for  ever  ?  and  will  he  be 
favourable  no  more  ?  Is  his  mercy  clean  gone  for  ever  ? 
doth  his  promise  fail  for  evermore  ?  Hath  God  forgotten 
to  be  gracious?  Hath  he  in  anger  shut  up  his  tender 
mercies  ?  And  I  said,  this  is  my  infirmity,  but  I  will 
remember  the  years  of  the  right  hand  of  the  Most  High. 
I  will  remember  the  works  of  the  Lord,  surely  I  will 
remember  thy  wonders  of  old.  I  will  meditate  also  of  all 
thy  work  and  talk  of  thy  doings.'  Yea,  look  diligently, 
and  leave  no  corner  therein  unsearched  for  that  treasure 
hid,  even  the  treasure  of  your  first  and  second  experience 
of  the  grace  of  God  towards  you.  Remember,  I  say,  the 
word  that  first  laid  hold  upon  you :  remember  your  terrors 
of  conscience,  and  fears  of  death  and  hell :  remember  also 
your  tears  and  prayers  to  God  ;  yea,  how  you  sighed  under 
every  hedge  for  mercy.  Have  you  never  a  hill  Mizar  to 
remember?  Have  you  forgot  the  close,  the  milk-house, 
the  stable,  the  barn,  and  the  like,  where  God  did  visit  your 
souls  ?     Remember  also  the  word,  the  word,  I  say,  upon 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  469 

which  the  Lord  hath  caused  you  to  hope.  If  you  have 
sinned  ag-ainst  light,  if  you  are  tempted  to  blaspheme,  if 
you  are  drowned  in  despair,  if  you  think  God  fights  against 
you,  or  if  heaven  is  hid  from  your  eyes ;  remember  it  was 
thus  with  your  father;  *  but  out  of  them  all  the  Lord 
delivered  me.' 

"  I  could  have  enlarged  much  in  this  my  discourse,  of 
my  temptations  and  troubles  for  sin  ;  as  also  of  the  merciful 
kindness  and  working  of  God  with  my  soul.  I  could  also 
have  stepped  into  a  style  much  higher  than  this,  in  which 
I  have  here  discoursed,  and  could  have  adorned  all  things 
more  than  here  I  have  seemed  to  do,  but  I  dare  not.  God 
did  not  play  in  tempting  of  me ;  neither  did  I  play,  when 
I  sunk  as  into  the  bottomless  pit,  when  the  pangs  of  hell 
caught  hold  upon  me ;  wherefore  I  may  not  play  in  re- 
lating of  them,  but  be  plain  and  simple,  and  lay  down  the 
thing  as  it  was ;  He  that  liketh  it,  let  him  receive  it,  and 
he  that  doth  not,  let  him  produce  a  better.     Farewell. 

"  My  dear  Children,  the  milk  and  honey  are  beyond 
this  wilderness.  God  be  merciful  to  you,  and  grant  that 
you  be  not  slothful  to  go  in  to  possess  the  land. 

{No  date.)  "  JOHN  BuNYAN." 

The  following  Letter  to  Mrs.  Tilney,  the  benevolent 
widow  whom  Foster  pillaged  and  the  Poor  wept  for, 
interdicts  her.  Dr.  Southey  says,  "  from  communicating 
with  a  church  of  which  her  son-in-law  was  Minister, 
because  he  was  not  a  Baptist."  Ivimey,  again,  says  of  it, 
that  it  is  an  example  of  Discipline  ''  worthy  the  imitation 
of  all  the  Churches  of  Christ."  I  know  nothing  about 
Blakey,  or  his  Church :  but  I  am  quite  sure,  that  his  views 
of  Baptism  were  not  the  reason  for  refusing  to  commend 
his  mother-in-law  to  his  fellowship.  Neither  Bunyan  nor 
his  Church  made  Baptism  a  condition  of  fellowship. 
Their  grand  distinction  was,  that  they  did  not.  Instead, 
therefore,  of  this  letter  being  a  contradiction  to  their  rule, 


470  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

it  is  most  likely  a  proof  of  their  rigid  adherence  to  it. 
Blakey's  Church  were,  most  probably,  very  strict  Baptists; 
and  objected  to  on  that  account  by  Bunyan.  For  their 
baptism  would  not  have  reconciled  him  to  their  bigotry. 
And  if  they  were  General  Baptists,  this  bigotry  was  allied 
with  an  Arminianism  which  he,  although  no  hyper-calvinist, 
would  not  have  countenanced. 

"  Our  dearly  beloved  Sister  Tilney, 

*'  Grace,  mercy,  and  peace  be  with  you  by  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord.    Amen. 

"  I  received  your  letter,  and  have  presented  it  to 
the  sight  of  the  brethren,  who  after  due  consideration  of 
your  motion,  have  jointly  concluded  to  give  you  their 
answer. 

"  This  for  yourself  (honoured  Sister),  you  are  of  high 
esteem  with  the  church  of  God  in  this  place,  both  because 
his  grace  hath  been  bestowed  richly  upon  you,  and  because 
of  your  fruitful  fellowship  with  us ;  for  you  have  been  a 
daughter  of  Abraham  while  here,  not  being  afraid  with  any 
amazement.  Your  holy  and  quiet  behaviour  also,  while 
with  patience  and  meekness,  and  in  the  gentleness  of 
Christ,  you  suffered  yourself  to  be  robbed  for  his  sake, 
hath  the  more  united  our  affections  to  you  in  the  bowels 
of  Jesus  Christ.  Yea,  it  hath  begotten  you  reverence 
also  in  the  hearts  of  them  who  were  beholders  of  your 
meekness  and  innocency  while  you  suffered  j  and  a  stinging 
conviction,  as  we  are  persuaded,  in  the  consciences  of 
those  who  made  spoil  for  themselves :  all  which  will 
redound  to  the  praise  of  God  our  Father,  and  to  your 
comfort  and  everlasting  consolation  by  Christ  in  the  day 
he  shall  come  to  take  vengeance  for  his  people,  and  to  be 
glorified  in  them  that  believe. 

''  Wherefore  we  cannot  (our  honoured  Sister),  but  care 
for  your  welfare  and  increase  of  all  good  in  the  faith  and 
kingdom   of  Christ,  whose   servant   you  are,   and  whose 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  471 

name  is  written  in  your  forehead ;  and  do  therefore  pray 
God  and  our  Father  that  he  would  direct  your  way  and 
open  a  door  into  his  temple  for  you,  that  you  may  eat 
his  fat  and  be  refreshed,  and  that  you  may  drink  the  pure 
blood  of  the  grape.  And  be  you  assured  that  with  all 
readiness  we  will  help  and  forward  you  what  we  can 
therein,  for  we  are  not  ashamed  to  own  you  before  all  the 
churches  of  Christ. 

"  But,  our  dearly  beloved,  you  know  that  for  our  safety 
and  your  profit,  that  it  is  behoofful  that  we  commit  you  to 
such,  to  be  fed  and  governed  in  the  word  and  doctrines,  as 
we  are  sufficiently  persuaded  shall  be  able  to  deliver  you 
with  joy,  at  the  coming  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  with  all 
his  saints :  otherwise  we  (that  we  say  not  you)  shall  receive 
blushing  and  shame  before  him  and  you.  Yea  and  you 
also,  our  honoured  Sister,  may  justly  charge  us  with  want 
of  love,  and  a  due  respect  for  your  eternal  condition :  if 
for  want  of  care  and  circumspection  herein,  we  should 
commit  you  to  any  from  whom  you  should  receive  damage ; 
or  by  whom  you  should  not  be  succoured,  and  fed  with  the 
sincere  milk  of  the  incorruptible  word  of  God,  which  is 
able  to  save  your  soul. 

"  Wherefore,  we  may  not,  neither  dare  give  our  consent 
that  you  feed  and  fold  with  such  whose  principles  and 
practices,  in  matters  of  faith  and  worship,  we  as  yet  are 
strangers  to ;  and  have  not  received  commendations 
concerning,  either  from  works  of  theirs  or  epistles  from 
others.  Yourself  indeed  hath  declared  that  you  are  satis- 
fied therein  :  but  elect  sister,  seeing  the  act  of  delivering 
you  up,  is  an  act  of  ours  and  not  yours,  it  is  convenient, 
yea  very  expedient,  that  we  as  to  so  weighty  a  matter  be 
well  persuaded  before. 

*'  Wherefore  we  beseech  you,  that  for  the  love  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  you  give  us  leave  to  inform  ourselves 
yet  better  before  we  grant  your  request ;  and  that  you  also 
forbear  to  sit  down  at  the   table  with  any  without  the 


472  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

consent  of  our  brethren.  You  were,  while  with  us, 
obedient,  and  we  trust  you  will  not  be  unruly  now.  And 
for  the  more  quick  expedition  of  this  matter,  we  will  pro- 
pound before  you  our  farther  thoughts. 

*'  1.  Either  we  shall  consent  to  your  sitting  down  with 
brother  Cockain,  brother  Griffith,  brother  Palmer,  or 
other  who  of  long  continuance  in  the  city,  have  shewed 
forth  their  faith,  their  worship,  or  good  conversation  with 
the  word. 

"  2.  Or  if  you  can  get  a  commendatory  epistle  from 
brother  Owen,  brother  Cockain,  brother  Palmer,  or  brother 
Griffith,  concerning  the  faith  and  principles  of  the  person 
and  people  you  mention,  with  desire  to  be  guided  and 
governed  by;  you  shall  see  our  readiness  in  the  fear  of 
God,  to  commit  you  to  the  direction  and  care  of  that  con- 
gregation. 

"  Choose  you  whether  of  these  you  will  consent  unto, 
and  let  us  know  of  your  resolution.  And  we  beseech  you 
for  love's  sake,  you  shew  with  meekness  your  fear  and 
reverence  of  Christ's  institution  ;  your  love  to  the  congre- 
gation, and  regard  to  your  future  good. 

"  Finally,  we  commit  you  to  God  and  the  word  of  his 
grace ;  who  is  able  to  build  you  up,  and  to  give  you  an 
inheritance  among  them  that  are  sanctified.  To  God  the 
only  wise  be  glory  and  power  everlasting.     Amen. 

"  Your  affectionate  brethren,  to  serve  you  in  the  faith 
and  fellowship  of  the  gospel, 

"  Sent  from  Bedford,  the  19th  "  JoHN  BuNYAN,"  &C.  &C. 

of  the  Uh  Month,  1672." 


Ivimey  says,  "  From  another  Letter,  we  find  that  Mrs. 
Tilney  refused  to  comply  with  the  directions.  The  Church 
however,  continued  to  enforce  their  advice.  There  is  no 
account  how  the  matter  ended."  It  is  quite  certain,  how- 
ever, that  the  matter  did  not  begin,  as  Dr.  Southey  says, 
"  because  Blakey  was  not  a  Baptist."     He  adds,  that  they 


;l 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  473 

"  excluded  a  Brother  (Robert  Nelson)  because  in  a  great 
assembly  of  the  Church  of  England  he  was  profanely 
hishopty  after  the  antichristian  order  of  that  generation, 
to  the  great  profanation  of  God's  order,  and  the  heart- 
breaking of  Christian  brethren."  This  case,  like  the 
former,  is  quoted  as  an  exception  to  the  tolerant  spirit 
of  Bunyan  :  and,  at  first  sight,  it  seems  an  exception. 
Indeed,  it  could  not  appear  otherwise  to  Dr.  Southey,  as 
he  found  it  in  Ivimey*s  History  of  the  Baptists.  There  it 
stands  as  a  bare  fact,  and  without  any  definition  of  the 
word  bishopt.  That  word  means  neither — made  a  Bishop, 
nor  ordained  by  a  Bishop.  Robert  Nelson  had  no  such 
honour,  and  he  deserved  none  at  all.  He  was  merely 
confirmed  "  in  the  great  assembly  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land ;"  but  confirmed  in  what, — I  cannot  tell :  for,  seven 
years  afterwards,  the  Church  at  Bedford  warned  the 
Churches  at  Steventon,  Keysoe,  and  Newport  Pagnel, 
not  to  countenance  him.  This  would  not  have  been 
necessary  if  he  had  become  a  churchman.  It  can  only 
be  explained  by  supposing  that,  in  some  way,  he  hung  on 
between  Church  and  Dissent.  No  great  fault,  I  grant,  if 
his  purpose  had  been  good.  But  this  is  doubtful.  It  is 
certain,  however,  that  Bunyan's  Church  admonished  him 
for  seven  years,  before  they  excluded  him  for  being 
bishopt :  and  even  then,  it  was  as  much  for  contemning 
all  admonition,  as  for  "  trampling  upon  their  order  and 
fellowship."  Their  Letter  to  the  Churches  is  now  before 
me ;  and  it  declares  that  he  was  borne  with  "  for  the 
space  of  eight  or  nine  years."  Had  Dr.  Southey  been 
aware  of  these  facts  of  the  case,  he  would  not  have 
adduced  Nelson's  exclusion  as  an  exception  to  the  tole- 
rance of  Bunyan's  Church.  I  state  the  facts,  that  there 
may  remain  no  draw-back  upon  the  honourable  testimony 
of  Dr.  Southey,  where  he  says  of  Bunyan,  that  he  was 
"  beyond  the  general  spirit  of  his  age  in  tolerance,  and^r 
beyond  that  of  his  fellow  Sectaries." — Life^  p.  77. 
3p 


474  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

"  TO  OUR  BELOVED  SISTER  KATHERINE  HUSTWHAT. 

"  Our  dearly  beloved  Sister, 

"  The  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
the  Father  of  Glory,  and  the  God  of  all  comfort,  bless 
thee  with  abundance  of  grace  and  peace  through  the 
knowledge  of  God  and  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  to  whom 
be  glory  evermore.     Amen. 

'*  It  is  a  comfort  to  us  thy  brothers  and  sisters  (with 
whom  grace  hath  made  thee  a  member  of  the  Lord  Jesusj 
when  we  remember  thy  first  faith  and  hope  in  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ ;  being  persuaded  that  those  beginnings  shall 
not  end  but  in  that  kingdom  and  glory  which  God  hath 
prepared  for  those  that  love  him.  In  which  persuasion  we 
are  the  more  confirmed,  since  we  hear  (to  our  increase  of 
joy)  how  our  God  supporteth  thee  in  all  thy  temptations 
and  spiritual  desertions  thou  meetest  with  in  the  world. 
The  poor  and  afflicted  people  God  will  save ;  to  be  dis- 
tressed and  tempted  while  here  is  a  manifestation  of  our 
predestination  to  the  ease  and  peace  of  another  world. 
Predestinated  to  be  conformable,  or  (as  in  the  old  transla- 
tion) predestinated  that  we  should  be  like-fashioned  even 
to  the  shape  of  his  Son.  A  great  part  of  which  lieth,  in  our 
being  distressed,  tempted,  afflicted  as  he.  And  therefore 
it  was  when  he  was  departing  hence  to  the  Father,  that  he 
as  it  were  looked  back,  as  over  his  shoulder,  to  such, 
saying,  *  You  are  they  that  have  continued  with  me  in  my 
temptations,  unto  you  I  appoint  a  Kingdom,  as  my  Father 
hath  appointed  unto  me.' 

"  Sister,  thy  keeping  low  and  being  emptied  from  vessel 
to  vessel,  is  that  thou  mightest  be  kept  sweet  and  more 
clean  in  thy  soul  than  thou  wouldst,  or  couldst  otherwise 
be.  The  first  ways  of  David  were  his  best ;  and  yet  those 
ways  were  most  accompanied  with  affliction.  They  that  are 
naked  and  lodge  without  clothing,  that  have  no  covering 
in  the  cold,  and  that  are  wet  with  the  showers  of  the 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  475 

mountains ;  these  embrace  the  rock  for  want  of  a  shelter. 
As  outward  distresses  make  us  prize  outward  blessings ;  so 
temptations  and  afflictions  of  soul  make  us  prize  Jesus 
Christ.  He  suffereth  us  to  hunger,  and  to  wander  in  a 
bewildered  condition,  that  we  may  taste  and  relish  the 
words  of  God,  and  not  live  by  bread  alone.  Temptations 
always  provoke  to  spiritual  appetite  ;  and  are  therefore 
very  necessary  for  us,  yea  as  needful  as  work  and  labour 
to  the  body,  without  which  it  would  be  overrun  with 
diseases,  and  unfit  for  any  employment.  Therefore,  our 
beloved  Sister,  stir  up  the  grace  of  God  that  is  in  thee, 
and  lay  hold  by  faith  on  eternal  life,  to  the  which  thou  art 
also  called  ;  and  count  when  thou  art  tempted  much,  yet 
the  end  of  that  temptation  will  come ;  the  end,  and  then 
effect.  And  remember  that  even  our  dearest  Lord  could 
not  break  off  the  temptation  in  the  middle  ;  but  *  when 
Satan  had  ended  all  the  temptation,  then  he  departed  from 
him  for  a  season.' 

*'  The  gospel  which  thou  hast  received  is  no  cunningly 
devised  fable,  but  the  very  truth  and  verity  of  God,  and 
will  undoubtedly  bring  to  those  that  believe,  grace  and 
glory,  honour  and  immortality ;  eternal  life,  and  a  world 
to  come.  This  is  the  true  grace  of  God  wherein  we  stand, 
and  rejoice  in  hope  of  the  glory  of  God.  Wherefore  be 
not  shaken  in  mind,  or  troubled  with  unbelief  or  atheism ; 
look  to  the  promise,  look  to  Jesus,  look  to  his  blood,  and 
what  worth  it  hath  with  the  justice  of  God  for  sinners. 
The  Lord  direct  thy  heart  into  the  love  of  God,  and  the 
patient  waiting  for  Jesus  Christ,  who  at  his  coming  will 
gather  the  saints  together  unto  him,  even  those  who  have 
made  a  covenant  with  him  by  sacrifice. 

"  Lastly,  Sister,  farewell,  watch  and  be  sober ;  have 
patience  to  the  coming  of  the  Lord;  and  in  the  mean  while 
look  to  thy  lamp.  The  Lord  pour  of  his  golden  oil  into  it, 
and  also  into  the  vessel  of  thy  soul ;  keep  thy  work  before 
thee,  and  be  renewed  in  the  spirit  of  thy  mind.     Blessed 


476  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

are  those  servants  whom  the  Lord  when  he  cometh,  shall 
find  so  doing.  We  commend  you  to  God,  and  to  the 
word  of  his  grace,  which  is  able  to  build  you  up,  and  to 
give  you  an  inheritance,  among  them  that  are  sanctified  by 
faith  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus,  to  whom,  with  the  Father, 
and  the  Holy  Ghost,  one  God,  be  glory  and  dominion 
now  and  for  ever. 

'*  Written  by  the  appointment  of  this  congregation,  and 
subscribed  by  their  consent,  by  your  dear  brethren,  who 
pray  for  you,  and  entreat  your  prayers  for  this  despised 
handful  of  the  Lord's  heritage. 

*'  John  Bun y an,"  &c.  &c. 

EXTRACT. 

"  I  marvel  not  that  yourself  and  others  do  think  my 
long  imprisonment  strange; — or  rather  strangely  of  me 
for  the  sake  of  that : — for  verily  I  should  have  done  so 
myself,  had  not  the  Holy  Ghost  long  since  forbidden  me. 
1  Pet.  iv.  12.  John  iii.  13.  Nay,  verily,  notwithstanding 
that,  had  the  Adversary  fastened  the  supposition  of  guilt 
upon  me,  my  long  trials  might  by  this  time  have  put  it 
beyond  dispute.  For  I  have  not  been  so  sordid  as  to  stand 
to  a  doctrine,  right  or  wrong,  when  so  weighty  an  argu- 
ment as  above  an  eleven  years*  imprisonment  is  continually 
dogging  me  to  pause,  and  pause  again,  to  weigh  the 
grounds  of  the  principles  for  which  I  have  thus  suffered : 
but  having,  not  only  at  my  Trial  asserted  them,  but  all 
this  tedious  tract  of  time,  examined  them  in  cool  blood  a 
thousand  times  by  the  Word  of  God,  I  cannot,  dare  not 
now  revolt  or  deny,  on  pain  of  eternal  damnation. 

**  Thine  in  Bonds  of  the  Gospel, 

(iVb  date.)  "  JoHN  BuNYAN." 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  477 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 


BUNYAN  S    CALVINISM. 


Dr.  Southey  says,  that  "  Calvinism  would  never  have 
become  a  term  of  reproach,  nor  have  driven  so  many- 
pious  minds,  in  horror  of  it,  to  an  opposite  extreme,  if  it 
had  never  worn  a  blacker  appearance  than  in  Bunyan*s 
Works."  He  was  less  courteous  to  Calvinism,  as  White- 
field  preached  it,  although  the  Methodist  was  as  "  mild 
and  charitable "  as  the  Baptist.  The  Calvinism  of  both 
was,  indeed,  the  same,  when  they  became  men.  It  is 
highly  creditable,  however,  to  Dr.  Southey,  to  have  made 
this  concession  even  in  the  case  of  Bunyan.  It  places  him, 
where  he  deserves  to  stand,  with  Bishop  Horsley :  for  it 
is  not  so  much  the  compliment  of  a  poet  to  Bunyan,  as 
the  homage  of  a  scholar  to  Truth.  I  have  had  to  animad- 
vert often  and  severely  upon  his  Life  of  Bunyan ;  but  I 
have  never  forgotten  for  a  moment  his  vast  and  varied 
erudition,  or  the  loveliness  of  his  private  character,  or  the 
deep  interest  he  takes  in  theology  as  well  as  in  literature. 
Little  did  I  imagine,  whilst  honoured  by  a  seat  at  his  fire- 
side, and  enraptured  by  his  playful  wit  and  profound 
wisdom  in  his  Library,  of  which  he  is  the  impersonation, 
that  it  would  ever  be  my  duty  to  write  a  line  concerning 
him,  except  from  gratitude  and  admiration !  It  was, 
indeed,  the  sight  (in  early  life)  of  his  beautiful  character 
as  a  student  and  a  father,  that  led  me  to  combine  literature 
with  both  my  domestic  habits  and  professional  duties  ;  and 
as  I  have  reaped  much  enjoyment  from  this  combination. 


478  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

I  feel  at  times,  as  if  I  had  been  ungrateful  or  unjust  to 
him.  And  I  certainly  have  been  both, — if  Puritanism  be 
the  heresy  he  says  it  is,  or  if  Experience  be  fanaticism.  I, 
however,  believe  the  former  to  be  the  noblest  form  of 
Christianity,  and  the  latter  the  vital  spirit  of  Piety  ;  and, 
therefore,  I  have  written  against  Dr.  Southey  as  their 
avowed  enemy ;  and  only  as  such.  I  believe,  also,  that 
he  will  be  remembered  and  influential,  on  this  subject, 
when  nine4enths  of  both  its  lay  and  ecclesiastical  assailants 
are  forgotten  ;  for  he  has  hung  his  high-Church  principles, 
and  his  low-Church  philosophy,  upon  the  loftiest  Cedars 
of  the  Lebanon  of  both  Dissent  and  Methodism  ;  and  thus 
he  cannot  die  now,  even  if  his  poetry  had  not  immortalized 
him  before. 

I  have  purposely  placed  these  remarks  in  this  Chapter, 
because  Bunyan's  Calvinism  is  his  only  theological  pecu- 
liarity,  which  Dr.  Southey  has  complimented  ;  and  because 
some  readers  will  wonder  to  find  that  Bunyan  was  a  Cal- 
vinist  of  any  kind ;  and  thus  turn  to  it  to  see, — of  what 
kind.  Now,  whatever  kind  it  may  be,  it  is  not  borrowed 
Calvinism,  nor,  of  course,  copied  from  Calvin.  The  only 
thing  of  his,  Bunyan  was  likely  to  see,  was  his  Com- 
mentary on  the  Acts,  which  was  translated  and  published 
by  Featherstone  in  1585,  under  the  auspices  of  the  Earl  of 
Huntingdon  ;  and  that,  if  he  ever  saw  it,  would  have 
contradicted  not  a  little  of  the  Calvinism  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  hear.  The  old  Genevan^  whatever  some  may 
say  for  him,  said  for  himself,  "  Because  many  entangle 
themselves  in  doubtful  and  thorny  imaginations,  while  they 
seek  for  their  salvation  in  the  hidden  council  of  God,  let 
us  learn  to  seek  no  other  certainty  save  that  which  is 
revealed  to  us  in  the  Gospel.  I  say, — let  this  seal  suffice 
us,  that  '  whosoever  believeth  in  the  Son  of  God  hath 
eternal  life.'" — Calvin* s  Acts,  p.  327. 

Bunyan,  as  we  shall  see,  might  have  read  this  Calvinistic 
maxim,  or  heard  it  quoted.     We  know,  however,  that  he 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  479 

had  studied  as  well  as  read  Luther  on  the  Galatians ;  and 
i  thus  was  as  likely  as  GifFord,  to  apply  to  himself  (as 
!  Luther  did  to  himself),  what  Paul  says  of  his  own  election. 
"  Under  the  Popedom,  we  (Monks)  were  verily  no  less,  if 
not  more,  contumelious  and  blasphemous  against  Christ 
and  his  Gospel,  than  Paul  himself; — and  especially  I !  So 
highly  did  I  esteem  the  Pope's  authority,  that  I  thought  it 
a  sin  worthy  of  everlasting  death,  to  dissent  from  him  even 
in  the  least  point.  That  wicked  opinion  caused  me  to 
reckon  John  Huss  an  accursed  heretic.  Yea  I  accounted 
it  a  heinous  offence,  but  once  to  think  of  him !  I  would, 
myself,  in  defence  of  the  Pope's  authority,  have  applied 
sword  and  fire  for  burning  and  destroying  that  heretic ; 
and  thought  it  a  high  service  to  God  so  to  do.  There 
was  not  one  of  us  but  was  a  bloodsucker,  if  not  in  deed, 
yet  in  heart.  It  is  the  alone  and  inestimable  favour  of 
God,  that  hath  spared  such  a  wretch,  and,  besides  that, 
given  me  the  knowledge  of  salvation.  This  gift  came  to 
me  by  the  mere  predestination  and  free  mercy  of  God." — 
Luther's  Galat.  4to,  p.  35. 

Bunyan,  like  his  first  pastor,  Gifford,  would  naturally, 
and  well  might,  take  a  similar  view  of  his  own  conversion, 
as  both  "  calling  and  election  ;"  for,  what  else  or  less  could 
he  think  of  it  ?  To  what  but  sovereign  and  almighty  Grace, 
could  any  one  ascribe  or  refer  it  ?  It  was  likely,  there- 
fore, to  influence  his  general  views  of  the  reign  of  Grace. 
No  one  ought  to  be  surprised  at  all,  if  Bunyan's  pei'sonal 
feelings  give  even  a  highly  Calvinistic  cast  to  his  doctrinal 
theology.  I  was,  indeed,  somewhat  astonished  to  find  a 
formal  Treatise  on  Reprobation,  in  his  Works,  when  I 
first  read  them  :  but  I  merely  said  to  myself,  "  I  wot  that 
through  ignorance,"  or  in  dread  of  the  opposite  extreme  of 
the  Freewillers,  he  wrote  it.  I  saw  it  was  logical,  and  as 
Bunyan  is  so  too,  I  had  do  doubt  of  its  JBunyanicity  then. 
I  more  than  doubt  that  now.  Its  logic  is  scholastic,  not 
natural.    I  say  scholastic,  not  instead  of  calling  it  artificial^ 


480  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

because  it  is  never  redeemed  by  either  fact  or  figure,  fancy 
or  egotism.  It  is  as  clear  and  cold  as  a  frosty  night : 
whereas  when  Bunyan  is  clearest  he  is  always  warmest. 
Light  and  heat  radiate  together  in  equal  proportions,  when 
he  reasons. 

On  this  ground  the  Treatise  on  Reprobation,  which 
appears  in  the  Octavo  Edition  of  his  Works,  by  Hogg, 
may  be  questioned.  It  forms  no  part,  however,  of  the 
Folio  Editions  of  1692,  or  1736.  Hogg's  has  no  date; 
but  as  it  has  notes  by  Mason,  and  a  Preface  by  Mr. 
Ryland  of  Northampton,  and  a  commendation  from  Mr. 
Timothy  Priestly,  it  is  of  course  subsequent  to  Marshal's 
folio  edition.  Besides,  the  title  of  the  Treatise  is  not  in 
Hogg's  table  of  contents.  Its  absence  from  the  Folio  is, 
however,  the  great  point  against  it ;  for  they  were  edited 
by  personal  friends,  on  behalf  of  Bunyan's  family.  I  do 
not  draw,  therefore,  upon  the  credit  which  my  readers  will 
give  me  for  a  competent  knowledge  of  Bunyan's  style, 
when  I  thus  ask  them  to  "stand  in  doubt"  of  this  Treatise. 
External  as  well  as  Internal  evidence  is  against  its  authen- 
ticity. The  copy  from  which  Hogg  printed  it  would  not 
prove  it  to  be  Bunyan's,  even  if  his  name  was  upon  the 
title-page,  unless  it  bore  a  date  prior  to  his  death ;  and 
even  then,  I  could  hardly  believe  it ;  for  his  name  was 
more  than  once  employed  by  low  booksellers  to  palm  off 
books  he  never  wrote. 

It  is  not  meant,  however,  by  these  facts,  to  say  that 
Bunyan  did  not  hold  Reprobation  in  any  sense  ;  but  that 
he  did  not  hold  it  in  the  vulgar  sense  of  modern  Hyper- 
Calvinists,  nor  in  the  form  it  appears  in  that  Treatise. 
And  that  he  was  no  Hyper-Calvinist  on  this  subject,  the 
following  passages  will  abundantly  prove.  In  his  Treatise 
on  Eternal  Judgment,  he  says,  "  Now  men  will  tattle  and 
prattle  at  a  mad  rate  about  Election  and  Reprobation,  and 
conclude,  because  all  are  not  elected,  that  God  is  to  blame 
that  any  are  damned :  but,  then,  they  will  see  that  men  are 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  481 

not  damned  because  they  were  not  elected,  but  because 
they  sinned ;  and  also  that  they  sinned,  not  because  God 
put  any  weakness  into  their  souls,  but  because  they  gave 
way,  and  that  wilfully,  knowingly,  and  desperately  to 
Satan,  and  so  '  turned  from  the  holy  commandment  de- 
livered unto  them.'  For,  observe  ; — among  all  the  objec- 
tions and  cavils  that  are  made,  and  will  be  made,  in  the 
day  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  they  have  not  one  humph  about 
Election  and  Reprobation.  And  the  reason  is, — that  they 
shall  see  then  that  God  could  choose  and  refuse  at  pleasure, 
in  his  prerogative  royal,  without  prejudice  to  the  Lost. 
They  shall  be  convinced  that  there  was  such  reality,  and 
downright  willingness  in  God,  in  every  tender  of  grace 
and  mercy  to  the  worst  of  men,  that  they  will  be  drowned 
with  the  conviction  that  they  did  refuse  love  for  hatred  ; 
grace  for  sin ;  heaven  for  hell  j  God  for  the  devil." — 
Wb?'kSf  vol.  iv.  p.  2461. 

In  his  Treatise  on  the  Covenants,  he  puts  this  question, 
*'  What  good  will  waiting  on  God  do  me,  if  I  am  not 
elected  ?  If  I  did  but  know  my  election,  that  would 
encourage  me."  In  answer  to  this  question,  he  says,  "  I 
believe  thee  !  But  mark  : — thou  canst  not  know  whether 
thou  art  elected,  in  the  first  place,  but  in  the  second. 
Thou  must  first  get  acquaintance  with  God  in  Christ  j 
which  Cometh  by  giving  credit  to  His  promises,  and  the 
records  he  has  given  of  his  blood,  righteousness,  and 
merits." — WorkSi  vol.  ii.  fol.  p.  193. 

In  his  Sermon  on  the  Strait  Gate,  he  explains  the  rejec- 
tion of  Esau  (a  case  which  long  haunted  him),  by  drawing 
a  distinction,  which  is  rarely  made,  between  the  birthright 
and  the  blessing.  Addressing  a  man  who  cares  nothing 
about  the  New  Birth,  but  only  for  mercy  at  last,  he  says, 
*'  Thou  child  of  Esau,  who  sayest.  Tush !  to  being  born 
again  ;  know  that  the  birthright  and  blessing  go  together. 
Miss  the  one,  and  thou  shalt  not  have  the  other.  Esau 
found    this    to    be    true  :    for    having    first    rejected    the 


482  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

birthright^  he  was  rejected  when  he  would  have  (wished  to 
have)  inherited  the  Messing,  although  he  sought  it  with 
tears." — Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  2164. 

He  says  of  the  Book  of  Life,  in  his  New  Jerusalem, 
"  We  are  to  understand,  I  say,  that  book  which  hath 
written  in  it  (the  names)  of  every  visible  saint,  whether 
they  be  elect  or  not;  or  such  a  Book  as  is  capable  of 
receiving  a  man  at  one  time,  and  of  blotting  him  out  at 
another,  as  occasion  requires.  O,  how  happy  is  he  who  is 
not  a  visible,  but  an  invisible  saint!  He  shall  not  be 
blotted  out  of  the  Book  of  God's  eternal  grace  and  mercy." 
—P.  2403. 

In  his  Confession  of  Faith  he  says,  "  I  believe  that 
Election  is  free  and  permanent ;  — that  it  doth  not  forestal 
or  prevent  the  means  which  God  appointed  to  bring  us 
unto  Christ ;  but  rather  putteth  a  necessity  upon  the  use 
thereof. — I  believe  that  the  Elect  are  considered  in  Christ 
always ;  and  that  tvithout  Him,  there  is  neither  election, 
grace,  nor  salvation.— I  believe  that  there  is  not  any 
impediment  attending  the  Election  of  God,  that  can 
hinder  their  conversion  and  eternal  salvation; — (but)  we 
are  predestinated  to  be  conformed  to  the  image  of  his 
Son."  In  the  article  from  which  these  extracts  are  made. 
Reprobation  is  not  even  named ;  and  there  is  no  article 
on  the  subject  in  his  Confession Wo7'ks,  vol.  i.  p.  262. 

There  is  a  curious  Map  (by  himself)  in  the  old  Folio 
Editions  of  Bunyan's  Works,  "  shewing  the  order  and 
causes  of  Salvation  and  Damnation,"  on  a  group  of  white 
and  black  Medals.  The  white  Medals  are  hung  from  the 
Covenant  of  Grace ;  and  Election  is  the  highest  of  them  : 
the  black  are  hung  from  the  Covenant  of  Works,  and 
Reprobation  is  the  highest.  But  it  is  hung  by  the  black 
line  o(  Justice,  as  the  former  is  by  the  white  line  of  grace. 
—Vol.  i.  p.  414. 

I  might  multiply  proofs  of  Bunyan's  moderation  on  this 
subject,  from  his  works :  but  I  prefer  to  illustrate  it  by 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  483 

facts.  Now  John  Denne,  his  chief  opponent,  who  hated 
Calvinism  even  more  than  Open  Communion  (if  I  under- 
stand his  logic)  treated  him  respectfully  as  a  Calvinist. 
Denne's  logic,  if  it  would  not  puzzle  Aristotle  himself, 
would  astound  him  by  its  alternate  weakness  and  force. 
He  must,  however,  have  reduced  Bunyan,  and  Calvinists 
of  all  grades,  to  a  dilemma,  when  he  dared  him  to  recon- 
cile with  his  assertion  that  God  was  no  respecter  oi persons, 
his  denial  that  God  had  any  respect  to  qualifications,  in 
shewing  mercy.  "  If  he  respect  neither  Persons  nor 
Qualifications,"  Denne  argues,  "  then  there  is  nothing  else 
about  man  to  consider.  He  has  nothing  to  respect  in 
choosing  or  refusing." — Old  Tract.  In  like  manner, 
Bishop  Fowler's  answer  to  the  Treatise  on  Justification, 
pours  all  its  abuse  upon  Bunyan's  Lutheranism  on  that 
point,  and  lets  his  Calvinism  alone.  Besides,  both  Dr. 
Owen  and  Henry  Jesse  were  his  friends :  a  sure  proof  that 
he  was  no  hyper-calvinist. 

On  these  grounds  I  venture  to  reject  the  claims  of  the 
Treatise  on  Reprobation  to  be  Bunyan's,  as  they  7iow 
appear.  They  rest  upon  no  ground  but  their  place  in 
Hogg's  edition.  True ;  that  was  edited  by  Mason,  the 
author  of  the  Notes  on  the  Pilgrim's  Progress;  a  man 
incapable  of  fraud.  He  was,  indeed,  a  high  Calvinist; 
but  he  was  a  higher  Moralist.  It  is  doubtful,  however,  if 
Mason  i-ead  all  the  Treatises  he  admitted  into  his  edition 
of  Bunyan.  If  he  did,  he  was  no  critic.  He  admitted 
*'  The  Exhortation  to  Peace  and  Unity,"  although  it 
abounds  in  classical  references,  and  sclwlastic  phrases,  and 
fine  writing.  Almost  any  other  man  would  have  asked 
how  John  Bunyan  came  to  quote  Plutarch,  Cambden,  and 
Stillingfleet's  Irenicum.  If  Latin  words  did  not  startle 
him,  the  Indiari  word  Habamach  (the  evil  Spirit)  ought 
to  have  done  so.  Besides,  the  author,  whoever  he  was, 
was  evidently  familiar  with  both  Gnostic  and  Grecian 
history.      His  work  is,  however,  quite  in  Bunyan's  spirit, 


484  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

and  smacks  occasionally  of  his  style ;  and  thus  it  misled 
Mason.  And  yet,  the  only  passage  in  it,  very  like 
Bimyan,  is  the  question,  "  Why  should  I  be  thought  to  be 
ag-ainst  a  fire  in  the  chimney^  because  I  say  it  must  not  be 
in  the  thatch  of  the  house  ?"  But  even  this  is  an  apology 
for  not  making  "the  laying  on  of  hands"  essential  to 
Church  fellowship,  although  the  writer  believed  it  to  be  an 
apostolic  ordinance.  I  am  not  sure  that  Bunyan  regarded 
Imposition  of  hands  in  this  light.  I  am,  however,  quite 
sure  that  he  never  would  have  enforced  Baptism,  as  an 
initiatory  ordinance,  which  this  Work  does,  without  assign- 
ing reasons  for  such  a  change  in  his  opinion ;  nor  would 
he  have  made  Baptism  a  condition  of  communion,  without 
saying  that  he  did  not  mean  immersion  only. 

Thus  Mason  mistook  in  one  instance  certainly ;  and 
therefore  he  may  have  been  heedless  in  the  former.  It  is 
not  meant  by  all  this,  however,  to  say  that  Bunyan  held 
very  different  views  of  Reprobation  from  those  in  the 
Treatise  :  but  that  he  did  not  write  the  Treatise.  It  is 
unlike  both  his  head  and  heart.  It  is  not  too  clever  for 
him  ;  but  it  is  too  cold-blooded.  Its  style  also,  like  that 
of  the  tract  on  Unity,  is  not  Saxon.  Whoever,  therefore, 
ascribed  the  dialectics  of  the  one,  or  the  literature  of  the 
other,  to  Bunyan,  betrayed  as  much  ignorance  of  him,  as 
the  author  of  the  Decretals  of  Isidorus  did  of  the  primitive 
Bishops,  when  he  made  the  contemporaries  of  Quintilian 
and  Tacitus  speak  the  monkish  Latin  of  the  ninth  century. 

In  regard  to  Bunyan's  own  Calvinism,  the  Pilgrim's 
Progress  is  not  an  unfair  representative  of  its  spirit.  It 
never  silences  nor  shackles  him,  either  in  inviting  all 
sinners  to  believe  the  Gospel,  or  in  warning  all  saints 
against  apostasy.  It  is,  however,  as  a  theory^  very  imper- 
fect, although  superior  to  that  of  many.  Its  grand  defect 
is, — that  it  argues  from  the  Remnant  elected  out  of  the 
Jewish  Church  when  she  was  judicially  blinded,  as  if  that 
remnant  was  a  fair  specimen  of  Election  until  the  end 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


485 


of  time,  and  amongst  all  nations.  Bimyan's  is  not  the 
only  Calvinism  which  does  this.  This,  indeed,  is  the  fault 
of  all  Calvinism,  which  deserves  the  name.  Arminianism, 
however,  does  not  mend  the  matter,  by  eschewing-  this 
fault.  Sovereignty  evidently  reigns,  notwithstanding  all 
denials  of  Election.  In  this  dilemma,  Paul's  one  maxim, 
that  God  shews  mercy  according  to  the  counsel  and  good 
pleasure  of  His  own  Will,  is  worth  more  than  all  the 
Calvinism  and  Arminianism  in  the  world,  to  a  man  who 
wants  mercy  for  himself.  For  as  Calvinism  cannot  tell 
him  what  the  Will  of  God  towards  him  is ;  and  as  Armin- 
ianism dare  not  tell  him  that  he  conferee  the  Divine  Will, 
nor  that  he  can  be  saved  against  that  Will,  he  has  thus 
no  alternative  but  to  throw  himself  upon  the  good  pleasure 
of  Sovereign  Grace,  or  to  abandon  himself  to  despair. 
When  will  it  be  generally  understood,  that  Paul's  argu- 
ment in  the  Romans  regarded  the  range  of  election 
amongst  the  divorced  Jews,  and  not  amongst  the  betrothed 
Gentiles  ?  It  w^as  not  Paul  who  threw  the  Will  of  the 
Testator  into  Chancery.  His  object  in  the  Epistle  is,  to 
take  it  out  of  the  Chancery,  into  which  the  Jewish  converts 
had  thrown  it,  in  order  to  disinherit  the  Gentiles.  Ac- 
cordingly, it  is  only  of  the  Jews  he  says,  that  there  was 
but  a  remnant  elected. 


486  LIFE    OF    CUNY  AN. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 


BUNYAN  S    TRINITARIANISM. 


It  is,  of  course,  no  information  to  the  public,  to  say  that 
Bunyan  was  a  Trinitarian.  Even  the  Unitarians,  fond  as 
they  are  of  claiming  men  of  genius  and  renown,  have  been 
unable  to  press  John  Bunyan  into  their  schedule,  notwith- 
standing all  his  catholicity,  and  his  demonstrations  ("  to 
boot,"  as  he  would  have  said)  of  the  proper  humanity  of 
the  Son  of  Mary.  It  is,  however,  not  very  obvious  why 
he  thought  it  necessary  to  defend  or  define  his  Trinita- 
rianism.  The  Unitarian  holders  of  old  orthodox  endow- 
ments may  find  no  difficulty  in  naming  the  Latitudinarians, 
who  alarmed  Bunyan  ;  but  ordinary  readers  feel  themselves 
at  a  loss.  Poor  Biddle  was  dead  before  Bunyan  entered 
the  field.  Besides,  Dr.  Owen,  in  1665,  had  "washed  the 
paint  from  the  porch  of  Mr.  Biddle's  fabric,  and  shewn  it 
to  be  a  composition  of  rotten  posts  and  dead  men's  bones, 
whose  plaister  being  removed,  their  abomination  lies  naked 
to  all." — Pref.  Vind.  Evan.  And  as  Biddle  was  too  early 
for  Bunyan,  Matthew  Caffin,  the  General  Baptist,  was  too 
late.  It  seems  to  have  been  in  1692,  that  Caffin  expressed 
his  Socinianism  "  with  great  freedom." —  Taylor's  Gen. 
JBapt.  How  then  are  we  to  account  for  Bunyan's  solemn 
protests  and  warnings  against  Antitrinitarianism  ? 

It  is  not  easy  to  answer  this  question,  without  bringing 
the  orthodoxy  of  the  General  Baptists  of  that  age  into 
more  doubt  than  the  great  bulk  of  them  deserve.     There 


LIFE    OF   BUNYAN.  487 

were  almost  Socinians  amongst  them  ;  but  the  proceedings 
of  the  Assembly  in  the  case  of  Caffin,  prove  that  the  Body 
were  upon  the  whole  Trinitarian.  These  proceedings, 
however,  prove  also,  not  only  that  there  were  Latitudina- 
rians,  not  a  few,  on  this  subject ;  but  also  that  there  was 
something  in  both  the  letter  and  spirit  of  their  original 
Confessions  of  Faith,  which  could  be  wielded  by  either 
party  with  much  plausibility.  This  is  the  case,  now  that 
they  form  two  distinct  Bodies.  Both  the  orthodox  and 
the  heterodox  General  Baptists  appeal  to  the  same  Confes- 
sions ;  and  each  with  more  reason  than  either  seems  inclined 
to  acknowledge.  It  was,  however,  to  the  Confessions  of 
Faith,  which  both  call  the  Creed  of  their  Founders,  that 
Bunyan  referred  when  he  shewed,  "  How^  a  young  or 
shaken  Christian  should  demean  himself  under  iveighty 
thoughts  of  the  Trinity,  or  the  plurality  of  Persons  in  the 
Eternal  Godhead."— ^For^^,  vol.  ii.  p.  1107. 

The  facts  of  the  case  are  these  ;  whatever  use  either 
party  may  make  of  them.  The  Confession  signed  by 
Grantham,  Caffin,  &c.  on  behalf  of  20,000  Baptists,  and 
presented  to  the  King  at  the  Restoration,  runs  thus, 
1.  We  believe,  and  are  very  confident,  that  there  is  but 
one  God,  the  Father,  of  whom  are  all  things. — 3.  That 
there  is  one  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  h])  whom  are  all  things, 
who  is  the  only-begotten  Son  of  God,  born  of  the  Virgin 
Mary,  yet  as  truly  David's  Lord  as  David's  root. — 7.  That 
there  is  one  Holy  Spirit,  the  precious  gift  of  God,  freely 
given  to  such  as  obey  him,  that  they  may  thereby  be 
thoroughly  sanctified.  There  are  three  that  bear  record 
in  heaven ;  the  Father,  the  Word,  and  the  Holy  Spirit. — 
Croshy^  vol.  ii.  Appendix^  p.  79. 

Now  there  is  Trinitarianism  here,  certainly ;  but,  as 
certainly,  put  in  a  strange  order.  Not  in  this  order,  nor 
in  these  phrases,  except  in  the  quotation  from  John,  did 
"  The  Seven  Churches  in  London,  commonly  but  unjustly, 
called  Anabaptists,"  state  their  faith  in  1646.    **  The  Lord 


488  LIFE    OF    BUN Y AN. 

our  God  is  but  one  God ;  but  in  this  Infinite  Being-  there 
is  the  Father,  the  Word,  and  the  Holy  Spirit ; — each 
having  the  ivhole  divine  essence ;  yet  the  essence  un- 
divided ;  all  infinite  without  any  beginning ;  therefore  but 
one  God." — Croshy^  vol.  i.  Appendix,  p.  7. 

It  was  this  difference  between  the  two  great  Confessions, 
which  alarmed  Bunyan.  And  even  Taylor,  the  candid 
historian  of  the  General  Baptists,  says,  in  reference  to 
these  times,  "  On  this  sublime  subject,  two  parties  may 
be  discerned  amongst  the  General  Baptists.'*  *'  The  much 
more  respectable,  both  for  numbers  and  character, — spoko 
with  ^re<2^  caution  in  their  explanations  of  the  essence  and 
attributes  of  the  infinite  Being ;  generally  using  scripture 
terms,  and  never  venturing  to  explain  or  define  what  they 
reverently  deemed,  in  their  own  expressive  phrase,  '  im- 
wordable'  The  latter  (party)  were  the  subscribers  of  the 
orthodox  Creed.  But  these  two  parties  differed  more  in 
appearance  than  in  reality,  though  the  one  dared  not  to 
use  the  language  of  the  other." — Gen.  Bapt.  Hist.  vol.  i. 
p.  364. 

This  is  quite  enough  for  my  purpose ;  which  is,  to  shew 
why  Bunyan  defined,  as  well  as  defended,  Trinitarianism. 
He  evidently  thought  with  Owen,  whose  sagacity  in  the 
matter,  Orme  says,  "  looks  almost  like  a  prediction,"  that 
the  fearless  speculations  about  "  Freewill,  Universal  Re- 
demption, and  Apostasy  from  Grace,  were  ready  to  gather 
to  the  head  of  Socinianism."  Orme  adds,  "  It  is  a  singular 
fact,  that  the  career  of  many  has  been  substantially  what 
the  Dr.  here  describes ;  from  Calvinism  to  Arminianism, 
Arianism,  and  finally  Socinianism.  Priestley,  Kippis,  and 
Robinson  were  all  illustrations"  of  this. —  Orme's  Life  of 
Dr.  Owen,  p.  216. 

There  is  much  solemn  truth  in  these  remarks.  It  is, 
however,  only  bare  justice  to  say,  that  the  great  Confession 
of  the  General  Baptists  in  1660,  is  so  orthodox  on  tha 
whole,  that  a  moderate  Calvinist  (and  Ivimey  says  there 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  4^9 

were  "  none  of  those  then  who  are  now  called  high)  might 
sign  it  with  a  good  conscience,  upon  an  emergency  which 
called  for  union.  Accordingly,  it  was  signed,  if  Henry 
Adis  may  be  believed,  by  "  some  persons  of  the  particular 
judgment,"  as  was  that  of  the  Seven  Churches  in  London 
*'  by  some  of  another  persuasion."  The  fact  is,  both 
parties  were  labouring  under  one  odium,  and  exposed  to  a 
common  danger,  and  thus  equally  interested  in  Articles  of 
Peace.  But  the  Article  on  the  Trinity,  which  was  for 
peace'  sake  in  1660,  was  turned  into  a  weapon  of  war  by 
the  Socinianized  Baptists,  in  1670,  although  only  secretly 
wielded  as  such  then.  Bunyan  knew  this,  and  had  seen 
some  of  those  who  were  wounded  or  shaken  by  its  secret 
thrusts  ;  and  therefore  he  both  counselled  them  and  warned 
others.  This  seems  to  have  been  the  origin  of  the  fol- 
lowing masterly  sketch  of  Trinitarianism. 

"  OF  THE  PERSONS,   OR  SUBSISTENCES,  IN  THE  GODHEAD. 

"  The  Godhead  is  but  one,  yet  in  the  Godhead  there 
are  three ;  *  There  are  Three  that  can  bear  record  in 
heaven.'  These  three  are  called,  the  Father,  the  Son,  the 
Holy  Spirit ;  each  of  which  is  really,  naturally,  and  eter- 
nally God  ;  yet  there  is  but  one  God.  But  again,  because 
the  Father  is  of  himself,  the  Son  by  the  Father,  and  the 
Spirit  from  them  both  ;  therefore,  to  each,  the  Scripture 
not  only  applieth,  and  that  truly,  the  whole  nature  of  the 
Deity,  but  again  distinguisheth  the  Father  from  the  Son, 
and  the  Spirit  from  them  both  ;  calling  the  Father  he,  by 
himself;  the  Son  he,  by  himself;  the  Spirit  he,  by  himself. 
Yea,  the  three  of  themselves,  in  their  manifesting  to  the 
church  what  she  should  believe  concerning  this  matter 
hath  thus  expressed  the  thing :  *  Let  us  make  man  in  our 
image,  after  our  likeness.'  Again,  '  The  man  is  become 
like  one  of  us.'  Again,  '  Let  us  go  down,  and  there  con- 
found their  language.'  And  again,  '  Whom  shall  I  send, 
and  who  will  go  for  us  ?'  To  these  general  expressions 
3  R 


490  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

mig-ht  be  added,  '  That  Adam  heard  the  voice  of  the  Lord 
God  walking-  in  the  midst  of  the  g-arden  :'  which  voice 
John  will  have  to  be  one  of  the  Three,  calling-  that  which 
Moses  here  saith  is  the  voice,  the  Word  of  God.  '  In  the 
beginning  (saith  he)  was  the  Word  ;'  the  voice  which  Adam 
heard  walking  in  the  midst  of  the  garden.  *  This  Word 
(saith  John)  was  with  God,  this  Word  was  God ;  the  same 
was  in  the  beginning  with  God.'  Marvellous  language ! 
once  asserting  the  unity  of  essence,  but  twice  insinuating  a 
distinction  of  substances  therein.  '  The  Word  was  with 
God,  the  Word  was  God ;  the  same  was  in  the  beginning 
with  God.'  Then  follows,  '  All  things  were  made  by  him, 
the  Word,  the  Second  of  the  three.' 

"  Now  the  godly,  in  former  ages,  have  called  these  three 
thus  in  the  Godhead,  persons  or  subsistences ;  the  which, 
though  I  condemn  not,  yet  choose  rather  to  abide  by 
scripture  phrase,  knowing,  though  the  other  may  be  good 
and  sound,  yet  the  adversary  must  needs  more  shamelessly 
spurn  and  reject,  when  he  doth  it  against  the  evident 
text. 

"To  proceed  then:  1.  There  are  Three.  2.  These 
Three  are  distinct. 

"  1st.  By  this  word  Three,  is  intimated  the  Father,  the 
Word,  and  the  Holy  Ghost.  And  they  are  said  to  be 
three,  (1.)  Because  those  appellations  that  are  given 
them  in  Scripture,  demonstrate  them  so  to  be,  to  wit, 
Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost.  (2.)  Because  their  acts 
one  towards  another  discover  them  so  to  be. 

*'  2d.  These  three  are  distinct.  (1.)  So  distinct  as  to 
be  more  than  one  only.  There  are  three.  (2.)  So 
distinct  as  to  subsist  without  depending.  The  Father  is 
true  God,  the  Son  is  true  God,  the  Spirit  is  true  God. 
Yet  the  Father  is  one,  the  Son  is  one,  the  Spirit  is  one. 
The  Father  is  one  of  himself,  the  Son  is  one  by  the 
Father,  the  Spirit  is  one  from  them  both.  Yet  the 
Father  is  not  above  the  Son,  nor  the  Spirit  inferior  to 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  491 

either.  The  Father  is  God,  the  Son  is  God,  the  Spirit  is 
God. 

"  Among  the  three  then  there  is  not  superiority. 

*'  1.  Not  as  to  time  :  The  Father  is  from  everlasting-,  so 
is  the  Son,  so  is  the  Spirit.  2.  Not  as  to  nature :  The 
Son  being  of  the  substance  of  the  Father,  and  the  Spirit 
of  the  substance  of  them  both.  3.  The  fulness  of  the 
Godhead  is  in  the  Father,  is  in  the  Son,  and  is  in  the 
Holy  Ghost.  The  Godhead  then,  though  it  can  admit 
of  a  Trinity,  yet  it  admitteth  not  of  inferiority  in  that 
Trinity.  If  otherwise,  then  less  or  more  must  be  there, 
and  so  either  plurality  of  gods,  or  something  that  is  not 
God  :  so  then,  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit  are  in  the  Godhead, 
yet  but  one  God  ;  each  of  these  is  God  over  all,  yet  no 
Trinity  of  Gods,  but  one  God  in  the  Trinity. 

*'  The  Godhead  then  is  common  to  the  three,  but  the 
three  themselves  abide  distinct  in  that  Godhead :  distinct, 
I  say,  as  Father,  and  Son,  and  Holy  Spirit. 

*'  This  is  manifest  further  by  these  several  positions. 

"  1.  Father  and  Son  are  relatives,  and  must  needs 
therefore  have  their  relation  as  such :  A  father  begetteth, 
a  Son  is  begotten. 

"  Proof.  '  Who  hath  ascended  up  into  heaven,  or  de- 
scended ?  who  hath  gathered  the  wind  in  his  fist  ?  who 
hath  bound  the  waters  in  a  garment?  What  is  his  name, 
and  what  is  his  Son's  name,  if  thou  canst  tell  ?'  '  God  so 
loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only-begotten  Son,'  &c. 
'  The  Father  sent  the  Son  to  be  the  Saviour  of  the 
world.' 

"  2.  The  Father  then  cannot  be  that  Son  he  begat,  nor 
the  Son  that  Father  that  begat  him,  but  must  be  distinct 
as  such. 

*'  Proof.  '  I  am  one  that  beareth  witness  of  myself^  and 
the  Father  that  sent  me  beareth  witness  of  me.'  '  I  came 
forth  from  the  Father,  and  am  come  into  the  world.' 
Again,  '  I  leave  the  world,  and  go  to  the  Father.' 


492  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

"  *  The  Father  judgeth  no  man,  but  hath  committed  all 
judgment  unto  the  Son,  that  all  men  should  honour  the 
Son,  even  as  they  honour  the  Father/ 

3.  The  Father  must  have  worship  as  a  Father,  and  the 
Son  as  a  Son. 

"  Proof.  '  They  that  worship  the  Father  must  worship 
him  in  spirit  and  in  truth ;  for  the  Father  seeketh  such  to 
worship  him,' 

"  And  of  the  Son  he  saith,  '  And  when  he  bringeth  his 
first-begotten  into  the  world,  he  saith,  And  let  all  the 
angels  of  God  worship  him.' 

*'  4.  The  Father  and  Son  have  really  those  distinct,  but 
heavenly  relative  properties,  that  discover  them,  as  such, 
to  be  two  as  well  as  one. 

"  Proof.  '  The  Father  loveth  the  Son,  and  sheweth  him 
all  things.'  '  Therefore  doth  my  Father  love  me,  because 
I  lay  down  my  life,  that  I  may  take  it  again.'  The  Father 
sent  the  Son  ;  the  Father  commanded  the  Son  ;  the  Son 
prayed  to  the  Father,  and  did  always  the  things  that 
pleased  him. 

"  The  absurdities  that  flow  from  the  denial  of  this  are 
divers ;  some  of  which  hereunder  follow. 

"1.  It  maketh  void  all  those  scriptures  that  do  affirm 
the  doctrine  ;  some  of  which  you  have  before. 

"  2.  If  in  the  Godhead  there  be  but  one,  not  three,  then 
the  Father,  Son,  or  the  Spirit  must  needs  be  that  one,  if 
any  one  only  :  so  then  the  other  two  are  nothing.  Again, 
if  the  reality  of  a  being  be  neither  in  the  Father,  Son,  nor 
Spirit,  as  such,  but  in  the  eternal  Deity,  without  considera- 
tion of  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  as  three ;  then  neither  of 
the  three  are  any  thing  but  notions  in  us,  or  manifestations 
of  the  Godhead,  or  nominal  distinctions,  so  related  by  the 
Word :  but  if  so,  then  when  the  Father  sent  the  Son,  and 
the  Father  and  Son  the  Spirit,  one  notion  sent  another, 
one  manifestation  sent  another.  This  being  granted,  this 
unavoidably  follows,  there  was  no  Father  to  beget  a  Son, 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  493 

no  Son  to  be  sent  to  save  us,  no  Holy  Ghost  to  be  sent  to 
comfort  us,  and  to  guide  us  into  all  the  truth  of  the  Father 
and  Son,  &c.  The  most  amounts  but  to  this,  a  notion  sent 
a  notion,  a  distinction  sent  a  distinction,  or  one  manifesta- 
tion sent  another.  Of  this  error,  these  are  the  conse- 
quences ;  we  are  only  to  believe  in  notions  and  distinctions, 
when  we  believe  in  the  Father  and  the  Son  ;  and  so  shall 
have  no  other  heaven  and  glory  than  notions  and  nominal 
distinctions  can  furnish  us  withal. 

*'  3.  If  Father  and  Son,  &c.  be  no  otherwise  three  than 
as  notions,  names,  or  nominal  distinctions,  then  to  worship 
these  distinctly,  or  together,  as  such,  is  to  commit  most 
gross  and  horrible  idolatry  ;  for  albeit  we  are  commanded 
to  fear  that  great  and  dreadful  name,  '  The  Lord  our 
God  ;'  yet  to  worship  a  Father,  a  Son,  and  Holy  Spirit,  in 
the  Godhead,  as  three,  as  really  three  as  one,  is  by  this 
doctrine  to  imagine  falsely  of  God,  and  so  to  break  the 
second  commandment :  but  to  worship  God  under  the 
consideration  of  Father,  and  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  and  to 
believe  them  as  really  three  as  one  when  I  worship,  being  the 
sum  and  substance  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Scriptures  of  God, 
there  is  really  substantially  three  in  the  eternal  Godhead. 

"  But  to  help  thee  a  little  in  thy  study  on  this  deep. 

"  1.  Thou  must  take  heed  when  thou  readest,  there  is 
in  the  Godhead,  Father  and  Son,  &c.  that  thou  do  not 
imagine  about  them  according  to  thine  own  carnal  and 
foolish  fancy  ;  for  no  man  can  apprehend  this  doctrine  but 
in  the  light  of  the  word  and  Spirit  of  God  :  '  No  man 
knoweth  the  Son  but  the  Father  ;  neither  knoweth  any 
man  the  Father  save  the  Son  ;  and  he  to  whom  the  Son 
will  reveal  him.*  If,  therefore,  thou  be  destitute  of  the 
Spirit  of  God,  thou  canst  not  apprehend  the  truth  of  this 
mystery  as  it  is  in  itself,  but  will  either  by  thy  darkness 
be  driven  to  a  denial  thereof;  or  if  thou  own  it,  thou 
wilt  (notwithstanding  thy  acknowledgment)  falsely  imagine 
about  it. 


494 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


"  2.  If  thou  feel  thy  thoughts  begin  to  wrestle  about 
this  truth,  and  to  struggle  concerning  this,  one  against 
another,  take  heed  of  admitting  of  such  a  question,  How 
can  this  thing  be  ?  for  here  is  no  room  for  reason  to  make 
it  out ;  here  is  only  room  to  believe  it  is  a  truth.  You 
find  not  one  of  the  prophets  propounding  an  argument  to 
prove  it,  but  asserting  it ;  they  let  it  lie,  for  faith  to  take 
it  up  and  embrace  it. 

"  The  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  love  of 
God,  and  the  communion  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  be  with  you 
all.    Amen." 

I  preserve  this  document,  to  prove  how  well  Bunyan 
could  define  and  compress,  even  upon  the  most  difficult  of 
all  subjects.  This  characteristic  of  his  power  is  the  more 
interesting,  because  he  always  approached  the  doctrine  of 
the  Trinity  with  awful  solemnity  as  well  as  modesty.  He 
did  not  reckon  the  doctrine  "  unwordahle "  exactly ;  but 
he  did  better :  he  cherished  the  habitual  conviction,  that 
the  Mystery  is  "  enough  to  crush  the  spirit,  and  stretch 
the  strings  of  the  most  capacious  and  widened  soul  that 
breatheth  on  this  side  of  Glory,  even  if  exceedingly  en- 
larged by  revelation." — }Vo?'ks,  vol.  ii.  p.  1107. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  495 


CHAPTER  XL. 


BUNYAN  S    CATHOLICITY 


When  one  of  the  strict  Baptists  told  Biinyan,  that  "  as 
great  men's  servants  are  known  by  their  livery^  so  are 
gospel  Believers  by  the  livery  of  water-baptism,"  Bunyan 
said,  "  Go  you  but  ten  doors  from  where  men  know  you, 
— and  see  how  many  of  the  world,  or  Christians,  will 
know  you  by  this  goodly  livery.  What ! — known  by  water- 
baptism  to  be  one  who  hath  put  on  Christ,  as  a  servant  by 
the  gay  livery  his  master  gave  him  ?  Away,  fond  man  ; 
you  do  quite  forget  the  text, — *  By  this  shall  all  men  know 
that  ye  are  My  disciples,  if  ye  Love  one  another !'  " — 
Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  1238.  This  Text  was  Bunyan's  watch- 
word ;  and  he  gave  all  men  the  full  benefit  of  it,  who  held 
the  great  doctrines  of  the  Reformation,  however  they 
might  differ  from  him  as  to  discipline  or  forms.  His  love 
of  the  Brethren  was  not,  indeed,  confined  to  Protestants. 
It  embraced  all  who  loved  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sin- 
cerity. Where  he  saw  love  to  Him,  he  thought  of  nothing 
else.  Accordingly,  in  riis  review  of  the  character  and 
spirit  of  the  Martyrs,  he  names  nothing  else.  What  they 
thought  of  Christ,  regulated  all  his  thoughts  of  them. 
This  maxim  makes  his  sketches  of  them  brief;  but  it 
renders  them  highly  characteristic  of  his  own  spirit ;  as 
will  be  seen  by  the  following  specimens  of  his  review. 

"  Ignatius  found  that  in  Christ  that  made  him  choose  to 
go  through  the  torments  of  the  Devil  and  hell  itself,  rather 
than  not  to  have  him. 


496 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


"  What  saw  Romanus  in  Christ  when  he  said  to  the 
raging  Emperor,  who  threatened  him  with  fearful  torments, 
'  Thy  sentence,  O  Emperor,  I  joyfully  embrace,  and  refuse 
not  to  be  sacrificed — by  as  cruel  torments  as  thou  canst 
invent  ?' 

"  What  saw  Menas  the  Egyptian  in  Christ  when  he  said 
under  most  cruel  torments,  '  There  is  nothing  in  my  mind 
that  can  be  compared  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  neither 
is  all  the  world  if  it  was  weighed  in  a  balance,  to  be  pre- 
ferred with  the  price  of  one  soul.  Who  is  able  to  separate 
us  from  the  love  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord  ?  And  I  have 
learned  of  my  Lord  and  king  not  to  fear  them  that  kill 
the  body/ 

"  What  did  Eulaliah  see  in  Christ  when  she  said  as  they 
were  pulling  her  one  joint  from  another,  *  Behold,  O  Lord, 
I  will  not  forget  thee :  What  a  pleasure  is  it  for  them,  O 
Christ,  that  remember  thy  triumphant  victory  ?' 

"  What  think  you  did  Agnes  see  in  Christ  when  re- 
joicingly she  went  to  meet  the  soldier,  that  w^as  appointed 
to  be  her  executioner  ?  '  I  will  willingly,'  said  she,  '  receive 
into  my  heart  the  length  of  this  sword,  and  into  my  breast 
will  draw  the  force  thereof,  even  to  the  hilts  \  that  thus  I, 
being  married  to  Christ  my  spouse,  may  surmount  and 
escape  all  the  darkness  of  this  world.' 

"  What  do  you  think  did  Julitta  see  in  Christ,  when  at 
the  Emperor's  telling  her,  that  except  she  would  worship 
the  gods,  she  should  never  have  protection,  laws,  judgments 
nor  life,  she  replied,  '  Farewell  life,  welcome  death  ;  fare- 
well riches,  welcome  poverty.  All  that  I  have,  if  it  were  a 
thousand  times  more,  would  I  give,  rather  than  to  speak 
one  wicked  and  blasphemous  word  against  my  Creator  ?' 

"  What  did  Marcus  Arethusius  see  in  Christ  when  after 
his  enemies  did  cut  his  flesh,  anointed  it  with  honey,  and 
hanged  him  up  in  a  basket  for  flies  and  bees  to  feed  on, 
he  would  not  give  (to  uphold  idolatry)  one  halfpenny  to 
save  his  life  ? 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  497 

"  But  what  need  I  give  thus  particular  instances  of 
words  and  smaller  actions,  when  by  their  lives,  their  blood, 
their  enduring-  hunger,  sword,  fire,  pulling  asunder,  and 
all  torments  that  the  Devil  and  hell  could  devise,  they 
shewed  their  love  to  Christ,  after  they  were  come  to  him  ?" 
^-Worhs,  vol.  i.  p.  418. 

The  man  who  loved  the  Dead  according  to  this  rule, 
was  not  likely  to  draw  nice  distinctions  amongst  "  the 
living  in  Jerusalem."  He  did  not,  although  long  and 
often  tempted  by  the  close  Communionists  to  do  so.  For 
they  did  more  than  abuse  him  publicly  for  his  catholicity. 
They  tampered  privately  with  him  and  others,  "  for  no  less 
than  sixteen  or  eighteen  years."  He  was  not  willing  to 
reveal  this  inconsistency  of  the  men  who  reviled  him.  But 
when  they  affected  to  despise  him  too,  he  told  all  the 
truth.  "  What  kind  of  a  you  am  I,"  he  says,  "  that  you 
thus  trample  my  person,  my  gifts  and  grace  (if  I  have 
any)  so  disdainfully  under  your  feet  ?  Myself  they  have 
sent  for,  and  endeavoured  to  persuade  me  to  break  com- 
munion with  my  brethren.  Also  with  many  others  have 
they  often  tampered,  if  haply  their  seeds  of  division  might 
take."— Vol.  ii.  p.  1205. 

Bunyan  pleaded  the  cause  of  all  Peedobaptists  as  firmly 
as  he  did  his  own.  He  would  "  know  no  man  after  the 
flesh,"  when  liberty  of  conscience,  or  the  right  of  private 
judgment,  was  invaded.  Then  he  could  cast  John  of 
Leyden  in  the  teeth  of  the  strict  Baptists,  as  openly  as 
Gunning  or  Featley  quoted  John  against  all  Baptists : — 
not,  indeed,  in  order  to  bring  odium  upon  them ;  but  to 
make  them  ashamed  of  themselves  for  their  approaches  to 
the  Leyden  spirit.  *'  What  say  you,"  he  asks,  "  to  John 
of  Leyden?  What  work  did  he  make  by  the  abuse  of  the 
ordinance  of  baptism  ?  I  wish  that  this  age  had  not  given 
cause^  through  the  church-rending  spirits  some  possess,  for 
making  complaint  in  this  matter ;  who  also  had  for  their 
engine  the  baptism  with  water.  You  yourself,  Sir,  would 
3  s 


498  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

not  stick  to  make  inroads,  and  outroads  too,  in  all  the 
Churches  in  the  land,  that  suit  not  your  fancy.  You  have 
already  been  bold  to  affirm,  *  that  all  those  who  have 
baptized  infants  ought  to  be  ashamed,  and  repent,  before 
they  be  shewed  the  pattern  of  the  House.*  What  is 
this  but  to  threaten,  could  you  have  your  will  of  them, 
that  you  would  quickly  take  from  them  their  present 
church  privileges,  and  let  them  see  nothing  of  them,  till 
subjection  to  water-baptism  especially  was  found  to  attend 
each  of  them." — Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  1212. 

In  opposition  to  this,  Bunyan*s  maxim  was,  "  I  am  for 
communion  with  saints  because  they  are  saints.  I  shut 
none  of  the  brethren  out  of  the  Churches,  nor  forbid  them 
that  would  receive  them.  I  am  for  union  and  concord 
with  saints  as  saints."  This  was  so  well  known  to  be  the 
fact,  that  his  opponents  could  only  say  that  he  shut  them 
out  from  Xxxs,  pulpit :  and  this  all  the  Churches  of  his  order 
did  ;  but  merely  because  of  their  "  church-rending  prin- 
ciples." And  as  to  the  strict  Baptists  who  were  not 
preachers,  they  were  not  likely  to  apply  for  admission  to 
the  Sacrament  where  Bunyan  presided.  Those  of  them 
who  were  in  Bedfordshire  would  not,  he  says,  even  ^^ pray 
with  men  as  good  as  themselves ;  but  would,  either  like 
Quakers,  stand  with  their  hats  on  their  heads,  or  else 
withdraw  until  we  had  done." — Vol.  ii.  p.  1244. 

Bedfordshire  has  been  very  different  ever  since  Bunyan's 
death !  Indeed,  through  all  his  diocese,  his  catholic  spirit 
still  prevails  amongst  the  dissenting  Churches, — and  as  his 
spirit.  They  would  say  now  in  his  words,  "  Shew  us  the 
man  that  is  a  visible  believer,  and  that  walketh  with  God, 
and  though  he  differ  with  us  about  baptism,  the  doors  of 
the  Church  stand  open  to  him,  and  to  all  our  heaven-born 
privileges  he  shall  be  admitted."  When  will  the  American 
Baptists  speak  this  language?  Is  it  true  that  only  one 
American  Baptist  Church  ever  tried  the  experiment  of 
open  Communion  ;  and  that  it  proved  an  utter  failure  ? 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  499 

Next  to  his  Bible,  nothing-  had  more  influence  upon 
Bunyan  than  the  judgment  of  the  great  and  good  Henry- 
Jesse,  on  this  subject.  That  noble-minded  man  exclaimed 
(and  all  Bunyan's  soul  responded),  "  O,  how  is  the  heart 
of  God  set  upon  having  his  children  in  His  House,  and  in 
each  others*  hearts  as  they  are  in  His  Heart— and  as  they 
are  upon  the  shoulders  and  breast  of  His  Son,  their  high- 
priest  !  And,  as  if  all  this  will  not  do  it, — but  the  devil 
will  divide  them  still, — the  God  of  Peace  will  come  in 
shortly,  and  bruise  Satan  under  their  feet." — Jesse*s  Judg- 
ment^ p.  4.  We  can  almost  hear  yet, — Bunyan's  "  Amen, 
even  so,  come  quickly  !" 

It  must  not  be  supposed  from  the  contrast  he  thus 
presents,  that  all  the  strict  Baptists  of  his  time  were 
equally  strict.  He  was,  indeed,  far  a-head  of  all  his  con- 
temporaries, except  Jesse ;  but  still  a  few  would  have 
overtaken  him  had  they  not  been  held  back  by  local  influ- 
ence. He  has  not  named  them,  and  I  cannot  j  but  he 
says,  "  This  I  thank  God  for, — that  some  of  the  Brethren 
for  this  way  are,  of  late,  more  moderate  than  formerly  : 
and  that  those  who  retain  their  former  sourness  still,  are 
left  by  their  Brethren  to  the  vinegar  of  their  own  spirit ; 
their  brethren  ingenuously  confessing  that,  could  their 
company  bear  it,  they  have  liberty  in  their  own  souls 
to  communicate  with  saints  as  saints." — Works,  vol.  iii. 
p.  1269. 

We  can  hardly  expect  from  Bunyan  any  compliments  to 
the  Church  of  England.  She  deserved  none  at  his  hand. 
Indeed,  the  wonder  is,  that  he  did  not  retaliate  severely. 
He  could  have  done  so  ;  and  it  was  not  fear  that  prevented 
him.  The  fact  is,  he  loved  the  Doctrinal  Articles  of  the 
Church  more  than  he  hated  the  Prayer  Book.  He  saw  in 
them,  a  testimony  and  a  barrier  against  Popery,  which  he 
deemed  favourable  to  Christianity.  It  was,  therefore,  with 
perfect  sincerity,  that  he  said,  in  the  preface  of  his  Work, 
against  Bishop  Fowler's  Legalism^  "  Gentle  Reader,  a 


500  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Minister  of  the  Church  of  England  overthroweth  the 
wJwlesome  doctrine  of  that  Church."  Accordingly,  he  says 
at  the  close  of  the  Work,  "The  Points  in  controversy 
between  us  are  (as  I  do  heartily  believe)  Fundamental 
Truths  of  the  Christian  religion.  Let  all  men  know, — 
that  I  quarrel  not  with  him  about  things  wherein  I  dissent 
from  the  Church  of  England ;  but  do  contend  for  the 
truth  contained  in  these  very  Articles,  from  which  he  hath 
so  deeply  revolted." — Justification  Defended. 

Dr.  Southey  did  himself  great  credit  when  he  said  of 
Bunyan, — "  His  was  indeed  so  Catholic  a  spirit,  that 
though  circumstances  had  made  him  a  Sectarian,  he  liked 
not  to  be  called  by  the  denomination  of  his  Sect."  There 
were  more  reasons  for  paying  this  compliment  than  the 
one  Dr,  Southey  has  quoted.  Bunyan  not  only  proclaimed 
that  the  title  Baptists  belonged  to  none,  "  so  properly  as 
to  the  disciples  of  John ;"  but  also  rebuked  those  of  them 
who  "  spoke  stoutly,  and  a  hundred  times  over,"  against 
the  Baptism  of  the  Church  of  England,  as  Antichristian. — 
Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  1245.  He  held,  indeed,  all  party  titles 
to  be  ^^  factious  ;"  and  because  they  tended  to  division,  he 
traced  their  origin  to  "  Babylon  and  Hell,"  not  to  "  Jeru- 
salem or  Antioch."  He  himself  claimed  and  begged  to  be 
called  only  as  "  a  Christian — a  Believer,  or  any  other  such 
name  which  is  approved  by  the  Holy  Ghost."  His  reasons 
for  all  this,  are  equally  strong  and  beautiful ;  and  they  will 
have  equal  weight  some  day,  although  they  had  none  when 
he  uttered  them,  and  but  little  now.  I  will  quote  no  more 
of  them  than  just  what  Dr.  Southey  has  recorded,  that 
posterity  may  see,  when  *'  the  times  of  reformation  shall 
come,"  how  well  Bunyan  reasoned,  and  how  prophetically 
the  Doctor  selected  the  very  arguments  which  will  annihi- 
late the  first  principles  of  his  own  Book  of  the  Church,  and 
the  last  vestiges  of  sectarianism  in  all  Churches. — "  Divi- 
sions run  Religion  into  briars  and  thorns  ;  contentions  and 
parties.    Divisions  are  to  Churches,  like  wars  to  countries :  - 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  501 

where  war  is,  the  ground  lieth  waste  and  untilled ;  none 
taketh  care  of  it.  When  men  are  divided,  they  seldom 
sjDeak  the  Truth  in  love :  and  then  no  marvel  they  grow- 
not  up  to  Him  in  all  things  who  is  the  Head.  It  is  a  sad 
presage  of  an  approaching  Famine  (as  one  well  observes) 
— not  of  bread,  nor  water,  but  of  the  Word  of  God,  when 
the  thin  ears  of  Corn  devour  the  plump  full  ones ; — when 
our  controversies  about  doubtful  things,  and  things  of  less 
moment,  eat  up  our  zeal  for  the  more  indisputable  and 
practical  things  in  religion ; — which  may  give  us  reason 
to  fear  that  this  will  be  the  character  by  which  our  age  will 
be  known  to  posterity, — that  it  was  the  age  which  tallied 
of  Religion  most,  and  loved  it  least.  Jars  and  divisions, 
wranglings  and  prejudices,  eat  out  the  groivili,  if  not  the 
life  of  religion.  These  are  those  waters  of  Marah,  that 
embitter  our  spirit,  and  quench  the  Spirit  of  God.  Unity 
and  Peace  are  said  to  be  like  the  dew  of  Hermon,  and  as  a 
dew  that  descended  upon  Sion,  when  the  Lord  promised 
his  blessing." — Southeys  Bunyarii  p.  77. 

Bunyan  cherished  fond  and  even  brilliant  hopes  of  the 
eventual  reign  of  Love  in  the  kingdom  of  Christ ;  but  not 
extravagant  expectations.  "  I  know,"  he  says,  *'  there  are 
extravagant  opinions  in  the  world,  about  the  kingdom  of 
Christ, — as  if  it  consisted  in  temporal  glory,  and  as  if  He 
would  take  it  to  him  by  carnal  weapons,  and  so  maintain 
its  greatness  and  grandeur.  But  I  confess  myself  an  alien 
to  these  notions,  and  believe  and  profess  quite  the  contrary. 
I  look  for  the  coming  of  Christ  to  judgment  personally ; 
but  betwixt  this  and  that,  for  His  coming  in  the  Spirit, 
and  in  the  power  of  his  Word  to  destroy  Antichrist, — to 
inform  Kings, —  and  so  to  give  quietness  to  His  Church  on 
earth.  Let  not,  therefore.  Kings,  Princes,  or  Potentates 
be  afraid ;  the  Saints,  that  are  such  indeed,  know  their 
places,  and  are  of  a  peaceable  disposition." —  Works,  vol.  iii. 
p.  1851.  Thus,  even  his  Millenarianism  was  full  of  peace 
on  earth,  and  of  good  will  towards  all  men. 


502 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


Did  then  Bunyan  say  nothing  against  the  Church  of 
England  ?  I  answer  unhesitatingly, — nothing  directly 
against  either  her  general  Creed  or  Constitution,  so  far  as 
I  can  discover.  He  said  much  against  admitting  the  pro- 
fane and  the  ungodly  to  the  Sacrament,  and  more  against 
blind  Priests  preaching  doctrine  subversive  of  both  the 
letter  and  spirit  of  the  Thirty-nine  Articles ;  but  nothing 
against  Episcopacy  as  such,  nor  more  against  the  Clergy 
than  Bishop  Burnet  did.  Not,  however,  that  he  believed 
a  word  about  diocesan  Episcopacy.  How  could  he ;  see- 
ing he  had  no  books  besides  his  Bible,  except  the  Book  of 
Martyrs?  and  all  the  Protestant  Bishops  it  made  him 
acquainted  with,  he  loved  and  revered  with  all  his  heart. 
He  gave  the  same  unhesitating  and  grateful  homage  to  the 
Episcopalian,  as  to  the  primitive,  Martyrs.  In  saying  this, 
I  do  not  forget,  nor  wish  to  conceal,  that  Bunyan  identified 
with  Antichrist^ — all  that  was  human,  secular,  or  sectarian, 
in  both  Episcopac}'^  and  Presbyterianism,  just  as  he  identi- 
fied with  Babylon  the  Shibboleth  of  the  Baptists.  And,  with 
what  else  could  he  identify  either  ?  Great  allowance  ought 
to  be  made  for  a  man  who  had  read  nothing  but  his  Bible, 
on  these  subjects.  For  had  we  nothing  else  to  read,  we 
should  soon  feel  ashamed  of  our  differences.  The  Bible, 
and  the  Bible  only,  is,  indeed,  the  Religion  of  Protestants; 
inasmuch  as  nothing  is  religion  but  what  it  enjoins :  but 
we  have,  in  all  our  Churches,  more  things  than  our  re- 
ligion. The  Prisoner  of  Bedford  saw  this,  and  said  so  to 
all  Churches ;  and,  certainly,  no  man  could  have  said  it, 
who  more  deserves  our  respect.  Posterity,  at  least,  will 
admire  his  spirit  on  this  subject,  as  much  as  we  admire  his 
Pilgrims.  They  will  relish,  if  we  do  not,  this  "  New 
Honey  in  a  B  ;" — if  I  may  be  allowed  to  apply  his  own 
pun  upon  his  name,  to  his  own  Catholicity. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  503 


CHAPTER   XLI. 


BUNYAN  S    RELEASE. 


If  any  Bishop  either  procured,  or  directly  helped  to  ob- 
tain, Bimyan's  liberation,  he  deserves  to  be  called  "  The 
Angel  of  the  Church  "  of  England,  and  ought  to  be  named 
for  ever  along  with  the  Angel  who  released  Peter  from 
prison.  No  man  would  more  readily  or  cheerfully  award 
this  tribute  of  gratitude  to  Bishop  Barlow,  than  myself,  if 
I  could  make  it  even  highly  probable  that  Bunyan  was 
indebted  to  him  for  liberty.  Now  there  are,  certainly, 
some  probabilities  in  Barlow's  favour.  No  other  Bishop 
has  ever  been  named,  as  at  all  friendly  to  Bunyan,  or  as 
even  affected  in  the  least  by  his  sufferings :  whereas,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  he  both  sympathized  with  him,  and 
interchanged  (not  Letters  indeed,  but)  messages  with 
Dr.  Owen,  about  "  straining  a  point  to  serve  "  the  author 
of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress.  That  Work  could  not  fail  to 
commend  itself  to  such  a  scholar  as  Dr.  Barlow ;  and,  as 
he  was  a  Calvinist  of  Bunyan's  order,  and  thus  obnoxious 
to  Archbishop  Sheldon,  he  would  naturally  prize  a  popular 
Allegory  which  threw  around  the  Genevan  Creed,  the 
charms  of  genius  and  practical  wisdom.  Accordingly,  all 
testimony  concurs  in  the  fact,  that  he  both  admired  and 
pitied  Bunyan.  I  give  prominence  as  well  as  priority  to 
this  fact,  that  it  may  make  its  own  impression,  and  main- 
tain its  influence  in  favour  of  Dr.  Barlow,  whilst  other 
facts  claim  our  attention. 


504 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


Now  Bunyan  was  released  from  prison,  at  least  two 
years  before  Dr.  Barlow  was  made  Bishop  of  Lincoln  ;  and 
thus  whatever  he  owed  to  the  Doctor,  he  owed  nothing  to 
the  Bishop,  in  the  matter.  Bunyan  was  released  late  in 
1672,  or  early  in  1673  ;  and  Barlow  was  not  raised  to  the 
Bench  until  1675.  It  does  not  follow  from  this,  however, 
that  he  had  no  influence  with  the  State  before  he  was 
made  a  Prelate.  The  probability  is,  indeed,  that  he  had 
more  influence  before  than  after ;  as  Sheldon  was  not  his 
friend,  nor  Calvinism  a  court  virtue  then.  He  was,  how- 
ever, too  near  the  Bench  in  1672,  to  employ  his  own 
influence  directly,  even  for  Bunyan,  although  Owen  ap- 
pealed to  him  as  his  old  tutor :  but  he  may  have  used 
some,  though  not  at  Owen's  request.  This,  I  have  no 
doubt,  is  the  true  solution  of  Barlow's  conduct.  He  had 
enemies  on  the  Bench,  because  of  his  Calvinism  ;  and  he 
was  afraid  of  making  more,  by  patronizing  even  a  noncon- 
formist Genius,  at  the  request  of  a  nonconformist  Doctor. 
He  thus  persuaded  himself  that  he  could  not  afford  to  be 
liberal,  until  the  Mitre  was  upon  his  head. 

Ivimey's  version  of  this  affair  is  as  follows :  "  This  event 
has  been  generally  ascribed  to  Dr.  Barlow,  Bishop  of  Lin- 
coln. What  assistance  he  aff'orded,  may  be  seen  by  the 
following  extract  from  the  Preface  to  Dr.  Owen's  Sermon, 
p.  30,  printed  at  London,  1721.  The  author  observes 
that  '  notwithstanding  the  Doctor's  nonconformity,  he  had 
some  friends  among  the  Bishops,  particularly  Dr.  Wilkins, 
Bishop  of  Chester,  who  was  very  cordial  to  him ;  and  Dr. 
Barlow,  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  formerly  his  tutor ;  who  yet, 
on  a  special  occasion,  failed  him,  when  he  might  have 
expected  the  service  of  his  professed  friendship. 

*' '  The  case  was  this,  Mr.  John  Bunyan  had  been  con- 
fined to  a  jail  twelve  years,  upon  an  excommunication  for 
nonconformity ;  now  there  was  a  law,  that  if  any  two 
persons  will  go  to  the  bishop  of  the  diocese,  and  off'er  a 
cautionary  bond,  that  the  prisoner  shall  conform  in  half 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  505 

a  year,  the  bishop  may  release  him  upon  that  bond ; 
whereupon  a  friend  of  this  poor  man  desired  Dr.  Owen  to 
give  him  his  letter  to  the  bishop  on  his  behalf,  which  he 
readily  granted.  The  bishop  having  read  it,  told  the 
person  that  delivered  it,  that  he  had  a  particular  kindness 
for  Dr.  Owen,  and  would  deny  him  nothing  he  could 
legally  do ;  nay,  says  he,  with  my  service  to  him,  I  will 
strain  a  point  to  serve  him.  (This  was  his  very  expression.) 
But,  says  he,  this  being  a  new  thing  to  me,  I  desire  a  little 
time  to  consider  it,  and  if  I  can  do  it  you  may  be 
assured  of  my  readiness.  He  was  waited  upon  again  about 
a  fortnight  after,  and  his  answer  was.  That  indeed  he  was 
informed  he  might  do  it ;  but  the  law  providing,  that  in 
case  the  bishop  refused,  application  should  be  made  to  the 
Lord  Chancellor,  who  thereupon  should  issue  out  an  order 
to  the  bishop,  to  take  the  cautionary  bond,  and  release  the 
prisoner.  Now,  said  he,  you  know  what  a  critical  time 
this  is,  and  I  have  many  enemies ;  I  would  desire  you  to 
move  the  Lord  Chancellor  in  this  case,  and  upon  his  order 
I  will  do  it.  To  which  it  was  replied,  this  method  was 
very  chargeable,  and  the  man  was  poor,  and  not  able  to 
expend  so  much  money,  and  being  satisfied  he  could  do  it 
legally,  it  was  hoped  his  Lordship  would  remember  his 
promise,  there  being  no  straining  a  point  in  the  case. 
But  he  would  do  it  upon  no  other  terms,  which  at  last  was 
done  ;  but  little  thanks  to  the  bishop.* 

"  From  this  account,  it  should  seem  the  honour  given 
to  Dr.  Barlow  has  been  ill  bestowed,  as  it  is  evident,  that 
even  his  friendship  for  Dr.  Owen  did  not  operate  suffi- 
ciently powerfully  to  exercise  his  ability,  lest  it  might 
expose  him  to  the  censures  of  the  high  Church  party." — 
Ivimeys  JBunyan,  p.  291. 

This  conclusion,  although  not  exactly  unfair,  is  drawn 

with  more  asperity  than  such  facts  warrant ;  unless,  indeed, 

it  could  be  shewn  that  Barlow  had  before  him  examples  of 

magnanimity,  which  ought  to  have  inspired  him  to  prefer 

3   T 


506  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

Bunyan's  rights,  to  an  episcopal  throne,  as  Frederic  did 
Luther's,  to  the  Pope's  smile.  But,  who  ever  risked  a 
Mitre  for  the  sake  of  a  Nonconformist  ?  This  is  too  much 
to  expect  from  any  man,  who  believes  that  a  Mitre  is 
useful !  It  may  be  very  easy  for  those  who  regard  it  as  a 
mere  bauble,  and  the  episcopate  as  unscriptural,  to  assure 
themselves  that  they  would  have  preferred  the  fame  of 
liberating  John  Bunyan,  to  the  Primacy  itself.  So  would  I. 
But  this  is  nothing  to  the  point.  The  real  question  is, 
ought  Dr.  Barlow,  believing  as  he  did  in  diocesan  episco- 
pacy, to  have  perilled  his  prospects  for  the  sake  of  John 
Bunyan  ?  It  is  impossible  to  answer,  except  in  the  nega- 
tive. He  must  have  thought  his  own  elevation  a  greater 
benefit  to  the  world,  than  the  liberty  of  Bunyan.  It  did 
not,  indeed,  turn  out  so  :  but,  who  could  have  foreseen 
that? 

Besides,  Barlow  was  not  the  man  to  make  sacrifices  of 
any  kind,  for  the  sake  of  Nonconformists.  He  was  not  a 
time-server,  indeed  ;  but  he  humoured  the  Times  dexte- 
rously, in  all  things  save  his  Calvinism.  In  1660,  whilst 
the  King  was  yet  talking  about  Toleration,  the  Doctor 
wrote  in  favour  of  it  to  Sir  Robert  Boyle:  but  in  1684, 
he  published  a  Charge  to  his  Clergy,  calling  on  them  to 
enforce  the  laws  against  Dissenters,  "  agreeably  to  the 
Resolutions  of  the  Bedfordshire  Justices,  (Bunyan's  old 
enemies !)  adopted  at  Ampthill."  He  published  also  in 
1679,  a  Treatise  on  the  Canon  Law  for  whipping  Here- 
tics :  but  whether  for  or  against  that  canonical  virtue,  I 
cannot  tell ;  its  title  only  being  given  in  the  Biog  :  Brit : 
and  in  the  Bibliographies.  Another  of  his  Works  attempts 
to  prove,  that  i^eal  Grace  ought  to  be  judged  of,  rather  by 
its  hind  than  its  degree.  And,  perhaps,  his  own  good  will 
towards  Bunyan  can  only  be  proved  to  be  very  hearty,  by 
giving  it  all  the  benefit  of  this  distinction.  It  was  good  in 
kind ;  but  small  in  degree.  Be  it  remembered,  however, 
that  it  was  both  more  and  better  than  that  of  any  Bishop 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  507 

of  the  ag-e,  elect  or  enthroned.  I  both  remembered  and 
felt  this  fact  when,  in  a  former  Chapter,  I  merely  called 
the  following-  passage  from  "  The  Life/'  in  the  British 
Museum,  imperfect :  "  Dr.  Barlow,  Bishop  of  Lincoln, 
coming-  into  these  parts,  and  being  truly  informed  of  Mr. 
Bunyan*s  suffering-s,  took  a  speedy  care,  out  of  true  Chris- 
tian compassion,  to  be  the  main  and  chief  instrument  in 
his  deliverance :  for  which,  as  a  hearty  acknowledgment, 
Mr.  Bunyan  returned  him  his  unfeigned  thanks,  and  often 
remembered  him  in  his  prayers,  as  next  to  God  his 
deliverer."  This  is,  I  think,  substantially  true  of  Dr. 
Barlow,  although  not  at  all  so  of  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln. 
The  Mitre  spoiled  his  sympathies,  as  it  has  done  those  ol 
many ;  but  he  must  have  befriended  Bunyan  in  some  way, 
at  some  time ;  for  all  contemporary  parties  give  him  credit 
for  it. 

This  view  of  the  matter  will  not,  I  fear,  set  the  question 
at  rest.     Barlow's  conduct  in  this  affair,  like  his  Work  on 
"  Weighty  Cases  of  Conscience,"  will  be  edited  by  a  "  Sir 
Peter  Petty"  both  for  and  against  him  ;  but  not  on  either 
side  so  wisely  as  did  the  worthy  Knight,  in  1692. —  Watts 
Bibliography.    Th.Q  pettish  on  one  side  will  ask,  where  are 
Bunyan's  own  acknowledgments  to  Dr.  Barlow?     And  I 
can  neither  produce  them,  nor  refuse  to  admit  that  their 
absence  is  a  suspicious  fact ;   for  he  was   not  the  man  to 
forget  or  conceal  his  obligations.     On  the  other  side,  it 
will  be   asked,  and  not  without  reason,  why  should  Dr. 
Barlow  be  deprived  of  all  the   credit,  seeing  there  is  no 
other  claimant  ?     Dr.  Southey  felt  the  difficulty,  and  said, 
"  How  Bunyan's  enlargement  was  effected  is  not  known." 
I    long    entertained    the    opinion,  that   the    Cabinet    had 
sense  enough,  when  the  Pilgrim  produced  a  sensation^  to 
have  done  "  the  people  a  favour ;"  but  I  found  that  to  be 
a  more  untenable  position  than  even  the  liberality  of  a 
Bishop.     The  Ministers  of  Charles  IL  had  neither  sense 
nor  conscience  enough  to  estimate  Bunyan  or  his  influence: 


508  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

whereas,  the  Bench  knew,  at  least,  the  worth  of  popular 
talent. 

Mr.  Ivimey,  in  his  zeal  to  deprive  Dr.  Barlow  of  all 
credit,  has  sanctioned  a  view  of  the  case,  which  Dr.  Southey 
justly  says,  is  "  fraudulent."  A  "  cautionary  bond,"  it  is 
said,  was  required,  which  pledged  the  prisoner  to  "  conform 
in  half  a  year."  John  Bunyan  conform,  or  allow  his  friends 
to  give  any  such  bond  for  him !  "  Nay,  verily,"  he  would 
have  lain  till  the  moss  grew  upon  his  eye-brows,  rather 
than  accept  of,  or  accede  to,  deliverance  on  any  such 
terms.  Twelve  years  of  imprisonment  had  not  shaken  his 
principles ;  and  his  friends  knew  him  too  well  to  set  their 
hearts  against  his  conscience  in  this  matter,  even  if  their 
own  consciences  would  have  allowed  them  to  sign  such  a 
bond.  Neither  Bishop  nor  Chancellor,  to  a  certainty,  ever 
saw  or  heard  of  a  pledge  for  Bunyan's  conformity.  Dr. 
Southey  is  wrong,  however,  in  saying  that  the  bond  pro- 
posed to  him  when  he  was  first  arrested,  would  have  been 
*'  less  objectionable "  to  him  than  the  fraudulent  one  in 
question.  He  would  have  spurned  both  alike,  because 
both  forbad  his  preaching. 

By  whatever  means  he  came  forth,  therefore,  he  came 
forth  in  the  character  he  went  into  the  Jail, — as  a  preacher 
of  the  everlasting  Gospel.  His  Church  also  held  a  day  of 
Thanksgiving  about  this  time  **  for  present  liberty,"  and 
soon  built  a  Chapel  for  him ;  plain  proofs  that  he  was 
under  no  bond,  whoever  released  him.  The  record  in 
the  Church  Book  is,  "  August  1672,  the  ground  on  which 
the  Meeting  House  stands  was  bought  by  subscription." — 
Ivimey.  I  have  seen  the  original  Agreement  for  this 
grovmd.  It  is  between  J.  Ruffhead,  Shoemaker,  and 
John  Bunyan,  Brazier^  both  of  Bedford,  for  50/.  lawful 
money. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


509 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

bunyan's  calumniators. 
1678. 

It  is  not  generally  known,  that  an  attempt  was  made  to 
implicate  Bunyan  in  a  charge  of  murder  and  seduction. 
He  himself,  very  properly,  does  not  mention  it,  because 
the  Coroner  fully  acquitted  the  accused  party :  for  it  is 
not  in  reference  to  her,  that  he  made  the  solemn  protesta- 
tions of  purity,  which  are  so  well  known  by  all  who  have 
read  his  "  Grace  abounding."  That  work  was  written  in 
prison :  whereas  the  case  of  Agnes  Beaumont  occurred 
some  years  after  his  release.  Unfortunately,  her  own 
Narrative  of  the  horrible  conspiracy  bears  no  date.  It 
appears,  however,  from  the  Tablet  erected  to  her  memory 
in  the  Baptist  Chapel  at  Hitchin,  that  she  became  a 
member  of  Bunyan's  Church  in  1672,  and  that  she  died  in 
1720,  aged  68  years.  She  herself  mentions  the  name  of 
the  Minister  of  Hitchin,  Mr.  Wilson,  in  her  Narrative ; 
and  Ivimey  gives  1677,  as  the  date  of  his  settlement  there. 
The  Editor  also  of  her  history  says,  that  Mr.  Wilson 
became  the  first  pastor  of  Hitchin,  in  that  year.  I  have, 
therefore,  ventured  to  assign  the  event  to  the  next  year. 
On  this  supposition,  Agnes  Beaumont  would  be  about  25 
years  of  age,  when  she  was  charged  with  murdering  her 
father,  at  the  instigation  of  Bunyan.  He,  it  was  said, 
furnished  her  with  poison  to  make  away  with  the  old  man, 
in  order  to  obtain  the  property  with  her. 


510  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

It  is  painful  to  relate,  that  this  fama  clamosa  arose  out 
of  a  slander,  set  on  foot  by  a  Clergyman  who  resided  in 
Bedford  ; — Lane  of  Edworth,  who  knew  both  parties  well ! 
It  was,  however,  a  Lawyer  who  added  the  charge  of 
murder  to  the  clerical  calumny  ;  and  he  did  it  from 
revenge.  He  had  marked  her  out,  three  years  before,  for 
his  wife,  and  then  persuaded  her  father  to  leave  the  bulk 
of  his  property  to  her,  and  to  cut  off  her  sister  with  a 
shilling.  Her  piety,  however,  defeated  Farry's  purpose. 
She  could  not  bear  him,  because  he  was  ungodly  j  and  he 
avenged  himself,  because  he  was  disappointed. 

But  this  extraordinary  affair  will  be  best  told  by  herself. 
Her  own  Manuscript  was  transcribed  by  the  Rev.  William 
Coles  of  i^mpthill,  and  given  to  his  daughter,  the  wife  of 
the  venerable  Andrew  Fuller.  It  was  first  published  by 
the  Rev.  Samuel  .James,  A.M.,  of  Hitchin,  in  1760,  some- 
what abridged;  and  in  1824,  it  was  republished  by  his 
son,  with  additions.  Mr.  Fuller  said  to  him  when  en- 
larging it  from  the  copy  of  the  original,  "  I  think  your 
father  abridged  too  much,  and  I  fear  the  son  will  abridge 
too  little."  Mr.  Isaac  James,  of  Bristol,  judged  better 
when  he  said,  "  I  hope  the  reader  will  not  be  of  the  same 
opinion."  I,  for  one,  am  not ;  and,  therefore,  I  have 
given  the  substance  of  the  Narrative,  so  far  as  it  bears 
upon  the  character  of  Bunyan :  not,  however,  without  first 
ascertaining  in  Bristol,  that  this  would  not  be  deemed  a 
trespass  upon  the  literary  property  of  the  family. 

Agnes  Beaumont  having  become  a  member  of  Bunyan*s 
Church  at  Bedford,  had  thus  a  right  to  communicate  in  all 
the  places  where  he  administered  the  Sacrament.  Gam- 
lingay  was  one  of  his  stations  ;  and  by  accompanying  him 
there,  against  his  will,  she  involved  herself  in  unspeakable 
trouble,  and  Bunyan  in  calumny,  for  a  time. 

"  There  was  a  Church-Meeting  at  Gamlingay,"  she  says, 
"and  about  a  week  before  it,  I  was  much  in  prayer, 
especially  for  two  things :  the  one,  that  the  Lord  would 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  511 

incline  the  heart  of  my  father  to  let  me  go,  which  he  some- 
times refused ;  and,  in  those  days,  it  was  like  death  to  me 
to  be  kept  from  such  a  meeting.  I  have  found  by  expe- 
rience, that  to  pray  hard  was  the  most  successful  method 
of  obtaining  my  father's  consent ;  for  when  I  have  not 
thus  prayed,  I  have  found  it  very  difficult  to  prevail.  The 
other  request  was,  that  the  Lord  would  go  with  me,  and 
that  I  might  enjoy  his  presence  there,  at  his  table,  that,  as 
in  many  times  past,  it  might  be  a  sealing  ordinance  to  my 
soul,  and  that  I  might  have  such  a  sight  of  a  bleeding  and 
dying  Saviour,  as  might  melt  my  heart,  and  enlarge  it  in 
love  to  his  name. 

*'  The  Lord  was  pleased  to  grant  me  my  requests.  Upon 
asking  my  father,  the  day  before,  he  seemed  unwilling  at 
first,  but  pleading  with  him,  and  telling  him  that  I  would 
do  all  my  work  in  the  morning  before  I  went  out,  and 
return  home  at  night,  I  gained  his  consent.  Friday  being 
come,  I  prepared  every  thing  ready  to  set  out.  My  father 
inquired  who  carried  me  ?  I  told  him  I  thought  Mr. 
Wilson  of  Hitchin,  as  he  had  told  my  brother,  the  Tuesday 
before,  he  should  call ;  to  which  he  said  nothing.  I  went 
to  my  brother's  and  waited,  expecting  to  meet  Mr.  Wilson ; 
but  he  not  coming,  it  cut  me  to  the  heart,  and  fearing  I 
should  not  go,  I  burst  into  tears,  for  my  brother  had  told 
me  that  his  horses  were  all  at  work,  and  that  he  could  not 
spare  one  more  than  what  he  and  my  sister  -were  to  ride 
on,  and  it  being  the  depth  of  winter  I  could  not  walk 
thither. 

*'  Now  I  was  afraid  that  all  my  prayers  on  this  account 
were  lost ;  my  way  seemed  to  be  hedged  up  with  thorns. 
I  waited  with  many  a  longing  look,  and  with  a  sorrowful 
heart,  under  my  sad  disappointment.  O,  thought  I,  that 
the  Lord  would  but  put  it  into  the  heart  of  some  person 
to  come  this  way.  Thus  I  still  waited,  but  with  my  heart 
full  of  fears.  At  last,  quite  unexpected,  came  Mr.  Bunyan. 
The  sight  of  him  caused  a  mixture  both  of  joy  and  of 


612  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

grief.  I  was  glad  to  see  him,  but  afraid  he  would  not  be 
willing  to  take  me  up  behind  him,  and  how  to  ask  him  I 
knew  not.  At  length  I  desired  my  brother  to  do  it,  which 
he  did.  But  Mr.  Bunyan  answered,  with  some  degree  of 
roughness,  '  No  ;  I  will  not  carry  her.'  These  words  were 
cutting  indeed,  and  made  me  weep  bitterly.  My  brother 
perceiving  my  trouble,  said.  Sir,  if  you  do  not  carry  her, 
you  will  break  her  heart :  but  he  made  the  same  reply, 
adding,  '  Your  father  would  be  grievous  angry  if  I  should.* 
(A  certain  person  in  the  neighbourhood,  one  Mr.  Farry, 
who  is  often  referred  to  afterwards  in  this  relation,  had 
slandered  Mr.  Bunyan,  and  set  her  father  against  him, 
endeavouring  to  make  his  vile  calumnies  pass  for  truth.) 
I  will  venture  that,  said  I.  And  thus,  with  much  entreaty, 
he  was  prevailed  on ;  and  O  how  glad  was  I  to  think  I 
was  going. 

"  Soon  after  we  set  out,  my  father  came  to  my  brother's, 
and  asked  his  men  who  his  daughter  rode  behind  ?  They 
said  Mr.  Bunyan.  Upon  hearing  this  his  anger  was  greatly 
inflamed ;  he  ran  down  the  close,  thinking  to  overtake  me 
and  pull  me  off  the  horse,  but  we  were  gone  out  of  his 
reach. 

"  I  had  not  rode  far  before  my  heart  began  to  be  lifted 
up  with  pride  at  the  thoughts  of  riding  behind  this  servant 
of  the  Lord,  and  was  pleased  if  any  looked  after  us  as  we 
rode  along.  Indeed  I  thought  myself  very  happy  that 
day :  first,  that  it  pleased  God  to  make  way  for  my  going ; 
and  then,  that  I  should  have  the  honour  to  ride  behind 
Mr.  Bunyan,  who  would  sometimes  be  speaking  to  me 
about  the  things  of  God.  My  pride  soon  had  a  fall,  for  in 
entering  Gamlingay,  we  were  met  by  one  Mr.  Lane,  a 
clergyman,  who  lived  at  Bedford,  and  knew  us  both,  and 
spoke  to  us,  but  looked  very  hard  at  us  as  we  rode  along ; 
and  soon  after,  raised  a  vile  scandal  upon  us,  though, 
blessed  be  God,  it  was  false.  (This  clergyman  usually 
preached  at  Edworth,  the  place  where  he  dwelt.) 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  513 

"  The  meeting  began  not  long  after  we  got  thither  ;  and 
the  Lord  made  it  a  sweet  season  to  my  soul  indeed.  O  it 
was  a  feast  of  fat  things!  I  sat  under  his  shadow  with 
great  delight !  When  at  the  Lord's  table,  I  found  such  a 
return  of  prayer,  that  I  was  scarcely  able  to  bear  up  under 
it.  I  was,  as  it  were,  carried  up  to  heaven,  and  had  such 
a  sight  of  the  Saviour,  as  even  broke  my  heart  in  pieces. 

0  !  how  I  then  longed  to  be  with  Christ !  How  willingly 
would  I  have  died  in  the  place,  and  gone  immediately  to 
glory !  A  sense  of  my  sins,  and  of  his  dying  love,  made 
me  love  him,  and  long  to  be  with  him.  I  have  often 
thought  of  his  goodness  in  his  remarkable  visit  to  my  soul 
that  day  :  but  he  knew  the  temptations  that  I  was  to  meet 
with  the  very  same  night  and  a  few  days  after.  I  have 
seen  the  bowels  of  his  compassion  towards  me,  in  these 
manifestations  of  his  love,  before  I  was  tried.  This  vras 
infinite  condescension  indeed. 

"  The  meeting  being  ended,  I  began  to  think  how  I 
should  get  home,  for  Mr.  Bunyan  was  not  to  go  by 
Edworth,  and  having  promised  to  return  that  night,  I 
was  filled  with  many  fears  lest  I  should  break  my  word.  I 
inquired  of  several  persons  if  they  went  my  way ;  but  no 
one  could  assist  me  except  a  young  woman  who  lived 
about  half  a  mile  on  this  side  my  father's  house.  As  the 
road  was  very  dirty  and  deep,  it  being  the  depth  of  winter, 

1  was  afraid  to  venture  behind  her ;  but  at  last  I  did,  and 
she  set  me  down  at  sister  Pruden's  gate,  from  whence  I 
hastened  through  the  dirt,  having  no  pattens,  hoping-  to  be 
at  home  before  my  father  was  in  bed ;  but,  on  coming  to 
the  door,  I  found  it  locked,  with  the  key  in  it,  and  seeing 
no  light,  my  heart  began  to  sink,  for  I  perceived  what  I 
Avas  like  to  meet  with.  At  other  times  my  father  would 
take  the  key  with  him,  and  give  it  me  from  the  window. 
However  I  called  to  him,  and  he  answered,  *  Who  is 
there  ?'  To  which  I  said,  '  It  is  I,  father,  come  home  wet 
and  dirty,  pray  let  me  in.'     He  replied,  '  Where  you  have 

3u 


514  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

been  all  day,  you  may  g-o  at  night ;  and  with  many  such 
sayings  he  discovered  great  anger,  because  of  my  riding 
behind  Mr.  Bunyan,  declaring  that  I  should  never  come 
within  his  doors  any  more,  unless  I  would  promise  never 
to  go  after  that  man  again.  I  stood  at  the  chamber  window 
pleading  to  be  let  in.  I  begged,  I  cried,  but  all  in  vain, 
for  instead  of  yielding  to  my  importunity,  he  bid  me 
begone  from  the  window,  or  else  he  would  rise  and  put 
me  out  of  the  yard.  1  then  stood  silent  awhile,  and  that 
thought  pierced  my  mind,  how  if  I  should  come  at  last 
when  the  door  is  shut,  and  Christ  should  say  unto  me, 
'Depart!'    Matt.  xxv.  10—12. 

"  At  length,  seeing  my  father  refused  to  let  me  in,  it 
was  put  into  my  heart  to  spend  that  night  in  prayer.  I 
could  indeed  have  gone  to  my  brother's,  who  lived  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  off,  and  where  I  might  have  had  a  good 
supper  and  a  warm  bed.  No,  thought  I,  into  the  barn  I 
will  go,  and  cry  to  heaven,  that  Jesus  Christ  would  not 
shut  me  out  at  the  last  day,  and  that  I  may  have  some 
fresh  discoveries  of  his  love  to  my  soul.  I  did  so,  and 
though  naturally  of  a  timorous  temper,  and  many  frightful 
things  presented  themselves  to  my  mind,  as  that  I  might 
be  murdered  before  morning,  or  catch  my  death  with  cold ; 
yet  one  scripture  after  another  gave  me  encouragement. 
Such  as  Matt.  vi.  6.  '  Pray  to  thy  Father  which  is  in  secret, 
and  thy  Father  which  seeth  in  secret  shall  reward  thee 
openly.'  Also  Jer.  xxxiii.  3.  '  Call  upon  me  and  I  will 
answer  thee,  and  shew  thee  great  and  mighty  things  which 
thou  knowest  not.'  And  with  many  such  good  words  was 
I  comforted. 

"  Being  thus  in  the  barn,  and  a  very  dark  night,  I  was 
again  assaulted  by  Satan ;  but  having  received  strength 
from  the  Lord  and  his  word,  I  spake  out  (as  I  remember), 
saying,  '  Satan,  my  Father  hath  thee  in  a  chain ;  thou 
canst  not  hurt  me.'  I  then  returned  to  the  throne  of 
grace  ;   and  indeed  it  was  a  blessed  night  to  my  soul,  a 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  515 

night  to  be  remembered  to  the  end  of  my  life,  and  I  hope 
I  never  shall  forget  it ;  it  was  surely  a  night  of  prayer,  yea, 
and  of  praise  too,  when  the  Lord  was  pleased  to  keep  all 
fears  from  my  heart.  Surely  he  was  with  me  in  a  wonder- 
ful manner  !  O  the  heart-ravishing  visits  he  gave  me ! 
and  that  spirit  of  faith  in  prayer  which  he  poured  out  upon 
me !  It  froze  very  hard  that  night,  but  I  felt  no  cold, 
although  the  dirt  was  frozen  on  my  shoes  in  the  morning. 

"  Whilst  thus  most  delightfully  engaged,  that  scripture 
came  with  mighty  power  on  my  mind,  1  Pet.  iv.  12. 
'  Beloved,  think  it  not  strange  concerning  the  fiery  trial 
which  is  to  try  you.'  This  word.  Beloved,  made  such 
melody  in  my  heart  as  is  not  to  be  expressed,  but  the  rest 
of  those  v\ords  concerning  the  fiery  trial  occasioned  some 
dread;  yet  still  that  first  word,  Beloved,  sounded  louder 
than  all  the  rest,  and  was  much  in  my  mind  the  whole 
night  afterward.  I  saw  that  I  was  to  meet  with  both  bitter 
and  sweet,  when  I  directed  my  cries  to  the  Lord,  to  stand 
by  and  strengthen  me,  which  he  graciously  did,  with  many 
a  blessed  promise,  before  the  morning  light ;  and  to  be  the 
'  Beloved  of  God '  was  my  mercy,  whatever  difficulties  I 
endured ;  nevertheless,  I  began  once  to  be  a  little  dejected, 
being  grieved  to  think  that  I  should  lose  my  father's  love ; 
but  this  led  me  to  the  Lord,  to  beg  that  I  might  not  lose 
his  love  too,  and  that  good  word  was  immediately  given 
me,  John  xvi.  27,  '  The  Father  himself  loveth  you.'  O 
blessed  be  God,  thought  I,  then  it  is  enough,  do  with  me 
what  seemeth  thee  good ! 

"  When  the  morning  appeared,  I  peeped  through  the 
cracks  of  the  barn,  to  watch  my  father's  opening  the  door. 
Presently,  he  came  out  and  locked  it  after  him,  which  I 
thought  looked  very  dark,  apprehending  from  hence,  he 
was  resolved  I  should  not  go  in,  but  still  that  word. 
Beloved,  &c.  sounded  in  my  heart.  He  soon  came  into 
the  barn  with  a  fork  in  his  hand,  and  seeing  me  in  my 
riding-dress,  made  a  stand,  when  I  thus  addressed  him  : 


516  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

'  Good  morrow,  father  ;  I  have  had  a  cold  night's  lodging 
here,  but  God  has  been  good  to  me,  else  I  should  have  had 
a  worse.'  He  said  it  was  no  matter.  I  prayed  him  to  let 
me  go  in,  saying,  *  I  hope,  father,  you  are  not  angry  with 
me,'  and  kept  following  him  about  the  yard  as  he  went  to 
fodder  the  cows ;  notwithstanding  this  he  would  not  regard 
me,  but  the  more  I  entreated  him  the  more  his  anger  rose 
against  me,  declaring  that  I  should  never  enter  his  house 
again,  unless  I  would  promise  not  to  go  to  a  meeting  again 
as  long  as  he  lived.  I  replied,  '  Father,  my  soul  is  of  too 
much  worth  to  do  this :  Can  you  in  my  stead  answer  for 
me  at  the  great  day  ?  if  so  I  will  obey  you  in  this  demand 
as  I  do  in  all  other  things ;'  yet  I  could  not  prevail. 

"  At  last,  some  of  my  brother's  men  came  into  the  yard, 
and,  seeing  my  case,  at  their  return,  reported,  that  their 
old  master  had  shut  Agnes  out  of  doors.  Upon  hearing 
this  my  brother  was  greatly  concerned,  and  came  to  my 
father,  and  endeavoured  to  prevail  with  him  to  be  recon- 
ciled :  but  he  grew  more  angry  with  him  than  with  me, 
and  at  last  would  not  hear  him ;  on  which  my  brother  said, 
'  Go  home  with  me,  sister,  you  will  catch  your  death  with 
cold.'  But  I  refused,  still  hoping  to  be  more  successful  in 
a  farther  application ;  I  therefore  continued  following  my 
father  about  the  yard,  taking  hold  of  his  arm,  and  crying 
and  hanging  about  him,  saying,  '  Pray  let  me  go  in,'  &c. 
I  have  since  wondered  how  I  durst  be  so  bold,  my  father 
being  of  a  hasty  temper,  insomuch  that  his  anger  has  often 
made  me  glad  to  get  out  of  his  sight,  though,  when  his 
passion  was  over,  few  exceeded  him  in  good  nature. 

"  Seeing  I  could  not  prevail,  I  went  and  sat  down  at 
the  door,  and  at  length  began  to  be  faint  and  cold,  it  being 
a  very  sharp  morning.  I  was  also  grieved  for  being  the 
occasion  of  keeping  my  father  in  the  cold  so  long,  for  he 
kept  walking  about  the  yard,  and  I  saw  he  would  not  go 
into  the  house  while  I  was  there.  I  therefore  went  to  my 
brother's,   and  obtained  some  refreshment  and  warmth  ; 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  517 

then  I  retired  and  poured  out  my  soul  to  God,  who  was 
pleased  to  continue  on  me  a  spirit  of  g'race  and  of  supplica- 
tion, and  forsook  me  not  in  this  day  of  great  trouble. 

"  About  noon,  it  being  Saturday,  I  asked  my  sister  to 
go  with  me  to  my  father's,  which  she  readily  did,  and 
finding  him  in  the  house  and  the  door  locked,  we  went  to 
the  window.  My  sister  said,  '  Now,  father,  I  hope  your 
anger  is  over,  and  you  will  let  my  sister  in,'  entreating  him 
to  be  reconciled,  while  I  burst  out  with  many  tears  to  see 
him  so  angry.  I  do  not  think  fit  to  mention  all  he  said, 
but  among  other  things  he  protested,  that  he  would  not 
give  me  one  penny  so  long  as  he  lived,  no  nor  when  he  died 
neither,  but  that  he  would  sooner  leave  his  substance  to  a 
stranger  than  to  me,  &c.  These  expressions  were  cutting, 
and  made  my  heart  sink ;  thought  I,  what  will  become  of 
me  ?  To  go  to  service  and  work  hard  is  a  new  thing  to 
me  who  am  very  young ;  what  shall  I  do  ?  yet  still  I 
thought  I  had  a  good  God  to  go  to,  and  that  was  then 
a  very  seasonable  word,  Psalm  xxvii.  1 0,  *  When  my 
father  and  mother  forsake  me,  then  the  Lord  will  take 
me  up.' 

"  Perceiving  my  sister's  strong  pleadings  were  vain,  I 
desired  my  father  to  give  me  my  Bible  and  pattens,  if  he 
would  not  please  to  let  me  in  ;  which  he  also  refused, 
saying,  '  That  he  was  resolved  I  should  not  have  a  penny, 
nor  a  penny's  worth,  as  long  as  he  lived,  nor  at  his  death.' 
On  this,  I  went  home  with  my  sister,  bitterly  weeping,  and 
withdrew  into  her  chamber,  where  the  Lord  gave  hopes  of 
a  better  inheritance.  O  now  I  was  willing  to  go  to  service, 
and  to  be  stript  of  all  for  Christ !  I  saw  that  I  had  a  better 
portion  than  that  of  silver  or  gold,  and  was  enabled  to 
believe  I  should  never  want. 

"  My  inclination  towards  night  was  to  go  to  my  father 
once  more  ;  and  since  he  was  so  very  angry  both  with  my 
brother  and  sister,  I  concluded  to  go  alone.  Upon  coming 
to  the  door  I  found  it  partly  open,  and  the  key  being  on 


518 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN 


the  outside,  and  my  father  within,  I  pushed  the  door 
gently,  and  was  about  to  enter,  which  he  perceiving,  ran 
hastily  to  shut  it,  and  had  I  not  hastily  withdrew,  one  of 
my  legs  had  been  between  the  door  and  the  threshold.  I 
would  not  be  so  uncivil  to  my  father  as  to  lock  him  into  his 
own  house ;  however,  having  this  opportunity  I  took  the 
key,  intending  when  he  was  gone  out  to  venture  in  and  lie 
at  his  mercy.  After  a  while  he  came  and  looked  behind  the 
house,  and  seeing  me  standing  in  a  narrow  passage  between 
the  house  and  the  pond,  where  I  stood  close  up  by  the 
wall,  he  took  me  by  the  arm,  saying,  '  Hussey!  give  me  the 
key  quickly,  or  else  I  will  throw  you  into  the  pond.*  I 
immediately  resigned  it  with  silence  and  sadness. 

"  It  appeared  in  vain  to  contend ;  I  went  down  the 
closes  to  a  wood  side,  with  sighs  and  groans,  and  a  heart 
full  of  sorrow,  when  this  scripture  came  again  into  my 
mind,  Jer.  xxxiii.  3,  '  Call  upon  me,  and  I  will  answer 
thee,  and  shew  thee  great  and  mighty  things  which  thou 
knowest  not.'  The  night  was  dark,  but  1  kept  on  to  the 
wood,  where  I  poured  out  my  soul  to  God  with  many 
tears.  And  that  word  also  greatly  comforted  me,  Psalm 
xxxiv.  1 5,  '  The  eyes  of  the  Lord  are  upon  the  righteous, 
and  his  ears  are  open  to  their  cry.'  I  believed  his  ears  are 
open  to  a  poor  disconsolate  creature,  such  as  myself,  and 
that  his  heart  was  towards  me.  And  that  was  a  wonderful 
word  at  this  time,  Isa.  Ixiii.  2,  '  In  all  their  afflictions  he 
was  afflicted.' 

"  I  staid  in  this  place  so  long  that  it  gave  great  concern 
to  my  brother  and  sister,  who  had  sent  one  of  their  men 
to  know  whether  my  father  had  let  me  in ;  and  under- 
standing he  had  not,  they  went  about  seeking  me,  but  they 
could  not  find  me.  At  length,  having  spread  my  case 
before  the  Lord,  I  returned  to  my  brother's,  fully  deter- 
mined not  to  yield  to  my  father's  request,  if  I  begged  my 
bread  about  the  streets.  I  was  so  strongly  fixed  in  the 
resolution,  that  I  thought  nothing  could  move  me ;  yet, 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  519 

alas !    like   Peter,   I   was  a  poor   weak  creature,   as   will 
presently  be  seen. 

"  This  was  Saturday  nig-ht.  The  next  morning  I  said  to 
my  brother,  let  us  call  on  my  father  as  we  go  to  the  meet- 
ing; but  upon  his  telling  me  this  would  but  further  provoke 
him,  we  forbore.  As  we  went  along  he  said,  *  Sister,  you 
are  now  brought  upon  the  stage  to  act  for  Christ,  I  pray 
God  help  you  to  bear  your  testimony  for  him  ;  I  would  by 
no  means  have  you  consent  to  my  father's  terms.' — '  No, 
brother,*  I  replied,  '  I  would  sooner  beg  my  bread  from 
door  to  door.*  While  I  sat  at  meeting,  my  mind  was 
hurried,  as  no  wonder,  considering  my  case  ;  but  service 
being  ended,  I  again  made  the  proposal  to  call  on  my 
father  in  our  way  home.  We  did  so,  and  found  him  in  the 
yard.  Before  we  came  quite  to  him,  my  brother  repeated 
his  admonition  to  me,  though  I  thought  I  stood  in  no  need 
of  his  counsel  on  this  particular.  He  talked  very  mildly  to 
my  father,  pleading  with  him  to  be  reconciled ;  but  per- 
ceiving he  still  retained  his  anger,  I  whispered  and  desired 
my  brother  to  go  home.  No,  said  he,  not  without  you.  I 
said,  I  will  come  presently ;  on  which  he  went,  though  (as 
he  told  me  afterwards)  with  many  fears  lest  I  should 
comply,  but  1  then  thought  I  could  as  soon  part  with  my 
life. 

"  My  brother  being  gone,  I  stood  pleading  with  my 
father,  and  said,  *  Father,  I  will  serve  you  in  any  thing 
that  lies  in  my  power,  I  only  desire  liberty  to  hear  God's 
word  on  his  own  day ;  grant  me  this  and  I  ask  no  more. 
Father,*  continued  I,  '  you  cannot  answer  for  my  sins,  or 
stand  in  my  stead  before  God,  I  must  look  to  the  salvation 
of  my  own  soul,  or  I  am  undone  for  ever.'  He  replied, 
'  If  I  would  promise  never  to  go  to  a  meeting  as  long  as 
he  lived,  I  should  then  go  into  the  house,  and  he  would 
provide  for  me  as  his  own  child,  if  not,  I  should  never 
have  one  farthing  from  him.'  '  Father,*  said  I,  '  my  soul 
is  of  more  worth  than  so  ;   I  dare  not  make  you  such  a 


520  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

promise.'  Upon  this  his  anger  was  greatly  enkindled,  and 
he  bid  me  begone,  for  he  was  resolved  what  to  do ;  there- 
fore promise  me  that  you  will  never  go  to  the  meeting 
again,  and  I  wall  give  you  the  key,  repeating  these  words 
several  times,  holding  it  out  to  me,  and  urging  me  to 
promise,  and  I  as  often  refusing,  till  at  last  his  wrath 
increased.  '  What  do  you  say  ?  if  you  now  refuse  to 
comply,  you  shall  never  be  offered  it  more,  and  I  am 
determined  you  shall  never  come  within  my  doors  again  as 
long  as  you  live.'  While  1  thus  stood  crying  in  the  yard, 
he  repeated  the  same  expressions  :  '  What  do  you  say, 
hussey  ?  will  you  promise,  or  not  ?'  Being  thus  urged,  at 
last  I  answered,  *  Well,  father,  I  will  promise  you  I  will 
never  go  to  a  meeting  again  as  long  as  you  live,  without 
your  consent.'  Hereupon  he  gave  me  the  key,  and  I  went 
into  the  house. 

"  But,  O !  soon  after  I  had  entered  the  door,  that  awful 
scripture  was  brought  to  my  mind.  Matt.  x.  33,  *  Whoso- 
ever shall  deny  me  before  men,  him  will  I  also  deny  before 
my  Father  which  is  in  heaven.'  Also  verse  37,  '  He  that 
loveth  father  or  mother  more  than  me,  is  not  worthy  of 
me.'  O  !  thought  I,  what  will  become  of  me !  what  have 
I  done  this  night!  I  was  so  filled  with  terror,  that  I  was 
going  to  run  out  of  the  house  again,  but  I  thought  this 
would  not  alter  what  I  had  done.  Now  alas !  all  my 
comforts  were  gone,  and,  in  their  room,  nothing  but  grief, 
and  rendings  of  conscience!  In  this  instance  I  saw  what 
all  my  resolutions  were  come  to,  even  nothing.  This  was 
Lord's  day  night,  and  a  black  night  it  was  to  me. 

"  In  a  little  time  my  father  came  in  and  behaved  with 
affection  ;  he  bid  me  get  him  some  supper,  which  I  did. 
He  also  told  me  to  come  and  eat  with  him,  but  it  was  a 
bitter  supper  to  me.  My  brother's  heart  ached  when  he 
saw  I  did  not  follow  him,  fearing  I  should  promise,  and 
not  coming  to  his  house,  was  ready  to  conclude  I  had 
done  so.     To  be  satisfied,  he  sent  one  of  his  men  on  some 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  521 

errand ;  who  returned,  saying,  I  was  in  the  house  with  his 
old  master,  who  was  very  cheerful  with  me.  On  this  he 
was  convinced  I  had  yielded.  But  no  tongue  can  express 
what  a  doleful  condition  I  was  in.  I  hardly  durst  look  up 
to  God  for  mercy.  Now,  I  thought,  I  must  hear  the  word 
no  more. 

"  On  Monday  morning  came  my  brother,  and  his  first 
salutation  was,  O  sister,  what  have  you  done  ?  What  do 
you  say  to  this,  He  that  denies  me  before  men,  him  will  I 
also  deny  before  my  Father  ?  This  cut  me  to  the  heart, 
but  I  said  little  :  and  my  father  coming  in,  he  went  away. 
This  day  I  went  into  every  corner  of  the  house  and  yard, 
crying  as  if  my  heart  would  break ;  and  though  several 
promises  came  into  my  mind,  I  durst  not  take  courage 
from  any.  Now  I  thought  I  must  hear  the  word  no  more. 
What  good  would  it  do  me  if  my  father  could  give  me  his 
house  full  of  silver  and  gold  ?  Thus  I  went  about  reflect- 
ing on  ray  condition,  and  sorrowing,  till  almost  spent  with 
grief.  When  my  father  came  in,  I  withdrew  into  the  barn 
to  pray,  and  give  vent  to  my  sorrow^ ;  when,  as  I  stood 
sighing,  leaning  my  head  against  something,  and  crying 
out,  Lord,  what  shall  I  do?  those  words  surprised  me, 
1  Cor.  X.  13,  *  There  shall  be  a  way  to  escape,  that  you 
may  be  able  to  bear  it.'  Lord !  thought  I,  what  way  wilt 
thou  make  for  my  escape  ?  wilt  thou  make  my  father 
willing  to  let  me  go  to  thine  ordinances  ?  if  thou  dost,  still, 
what  a  wretch  was  I  thus  to  deny  Christ !  O  now  I  cried 
earnestly.  Lord,  pardon  and  pity  me !  In  the  evening,  as 
we  were  sitting  by  the  fire,  my  father  asked  me  what  was 
the  matter?  I  burst  into  tears,  saying,  O  father!  I  am 
distressed  at  the  thoughts  of  my  promise,  not  to  go  to  a 
meeting  again  without  your  consent,  and  fear  you  will  not 
be  willing.  He  was  so  moved  that  he  wept  like  a  child, 
bidding  me  not  let  that  trouble  me,  for  we  should  not 
disagree  ;  at  which  I  was  a  little  comforted,  and  said.  Pray 
father,  forgive  me  wherein  I  have  been  undutiful  to  you. 
3x 


OZZ  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

He  then  told  me  with  tears,  how  much  he  was  troubled 
for  me  that  night  he  shut  me  out  of  doors,  insomuch  that 
he  could  not  sleep  ;  adding,  it  was  my  riding  behind  John 
Bunyan  that  made  him  so  angry.  (Some  evil-minded  men 
of  the  town  (as  hinted  before)  especially  Mr.  Farry,  had 
set  her  father  against  Mr.  Bunyan ;  for  in  time  past  he 
had  heard  him  preach,  and  had  been  much  melted  under 
the  word ;  he  would  pray,  and  frequently  go  to  the 
meeting.  Yea,  and  when  his  daughter  was  first  under 
spiritual  concern,  he  had  very  great  awakenings  himself, 
and  would  say  to  some  of  the  neighbours.  My  daughter 
can  scarce  eat,  drink,  or  sleep  ;  and  I  have  lived  these 
threescore  years,  and  have  scarce  ever  thought  of  my  soul, 
&c.  He  would  then  hear  the  word  with  many  tears,  and 
pray  in  secret,  but  Mr.  Farry  would  again  persuade  him 
against  the  Dissenters,  representing  them  as  hypocrites,  &c.) 

"  The  greatest  part  of  the  next  day,  being  Tuesday,  I 
spent  in  prayer  and  weeping,  with  bitter  lamentations, 
humbling  myself  before  the  Lord  for  what  I  had  done,  and 
begging  I  might  be  kept  by  his  grace  and  Spirit  from 
denying  him  and  his  ways  for  the  future.  Before  night  he 
brought  me  out  of  this  horrible  pit,  and  set  my  feet  upon 
a  rock,  enabling  me  to  believe  the  forgiveness  of  all  my 
sins,  by  sealing  many  precious  promises  home  on  my  soul. 
I  could  now  look  back  with  comfort  on  the  night  I  spent 
in  the  barn  ;  the  sweet  relish  of  that  blessed  word,  Beloved, 
returned,  and  I  believed  Jesus  Christ  was  the  same  yester- 
day, to-day,  and  for  ever ;  and  that  scripture  was  much  in 
mind.  Job  v.  19,  'He  shall  deliver  thee  in  six  troubles; 
yea  in  seven  there  shall  no  evil  touch  thee/  Also  Deut. 
xxxiii.  27,  *  The  eternal  God  is  thy  refuge,  and  under- 
neath are  the  everlasting  arms.' 

"  My  father  was  as  well  as  usual  this  day,  and  eat  his 
dinner  as  heartily  as  ever  I  knew  him :  he  would  some- 
times sit  up  by  candle-light,  while  I  was  spinning,  but  he 
now  observed  it  was  a  very  cold  night,  and  he  would  go  to 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  523 

bed  early :  after  supper  he  smoked  a  pipe,  and  went  to  bed 
seemingly  in  perfect  health.  But  while  I  was  by  his  bed 
side,  laying  his  clothes  on  him,  those  words  ran  through 
my  mind.  The  end  is  come,  the  end  is  come ;  the  time 
draweth  near.  But  I  could  not  tell  what  to  make  of 
them. 

"  As  soon  therefore  as  I  quitted  the  room,  I  went  to 
the  throne  of  grace,  where  my  heart  was  wonderfully 
drawn  forth,  especially  that  the  Lord  would  shew  mercy 
to  my  father,  and  save  his  soul,  for  which  I  was  so  impor- 
tunate, that  I  could  not  tell  how  to  leave  pleading :  and 
still  that  word  continued  on  my  mind,  *  The  end  is  come.' 
Another  thing  I  entreated  of  the  Lord  was,  that  he  would 
stand  by  me,  and  be  with  me  in  whatever  trouble  I  had  to 
meet  with,  little  thinking  what  was  coming  upon  me  that 
night  and  the  week  following. 

"  After  this  T  went  to  bed,  thinking  on  the  freedom 
which  God  had  given  me  in  prayer ;  but  had  not  slept 
long  before  I  heard  a  doleful  noise,  which  at  first  I  appre- 
hended had  been  in  the  yard,  but  soon  perceived  it  to  be 
my  father.  Being  within  hearing,  I  called  to  him,  saying. 
Father,  are  you  not  well  ?  he  said,  '  No,  I  was  struck  with 
a  pain  in  my  heart  in  my  sleep,  and  I  shall  die  presently.' 
I  immediately  arose,  put  on  a  few  clothes,  ran  and  lighted 
a  candle ;  and  coming  to  him,  found  him  sitting  upright  in 
his  bed,  crying  to  the  Lord  for  mercy,  saying,  '  Lord  have 
mercy  on  me,  for  I  am  a  poor  miserable  sinner!  Lord 
Jesus,  wash  me  in  thy  precious  blood,'  &c.  I  stood  trem- 
bling to  hear  him  in  such  distress,  and  to  see  him  look  so 
pale.  I  then  kneeled  down  by  the  bed-side,  and  which  I 
had  never  done  before,  prayed  with  him,  in  which  he 
seemed  to  join  very  earnestly. 

"  This  done,  I  said,  Father,  I  will  go  and  call  somebody, 
for  I  dare  not  stay  with  you  alone.  He  replied,  *  You 
shall  not  go  out  at  this  time  of  night,  do  not  be  afraid,' 
still  crying  loud  for  mercy.     Soon  after  he  said  he  would 


524  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

rise  and  put  on  his  clothes  himself.  I  ran  and  made  a 
good  fire,  and  got  him  something-  hot,  hoping  that  it  might 
relieve  him.  '  O,'  said  he,  *  I  want  mercy  for  my  soul ! 
Lord,  shew  mercy  to  me,  for  I  am  a  great  sinner  !  if  thou 
dost  not  shew  me  mercy,  I  am  undone  for  ever !'  Father, 
said  I,  there  is  mercy  in  Jesus  Christ  for  sinners,  the  Lord 
help  you  to  lay  hold  on  it !  *  O,'  replied  he,  *  I  have  been 
against  you  for  seeking  after  Jesus  Christ ;  Lord,  forgive 
me,  and  lay  not  this  sin  to  my  charge !' 

"  I  desired  him  to  drink  something  warm  which  I  had 
for  him  ;  but  his  trying  to  drink  brought  on  a  violent 
retching,  and  he  changed  black  in  the  face.  I  stood  by 
holding  his  head,  and  he  leaned  upon  me  with  all  his 
weight.  Dreadful  time  indeed !  if  I  left  him  I  was  afraid 
he  would  fall  into  the  fire  ;  and  if  I  stood  by  him  he  would 
die  in  my  arms,  and  no  one  person  near  us.  I  cried  out, 
What  shall  I  do  !  Lord  help  me  !  Then  came  that  scrip- 
ture, Isa.  xli.  10,  '  Fear  thou  not,  for  I  am  with  thee ;  be 
not  dismayed,  I  am  thy  God ;  I  will  help  thee,  yea,  I  will 
uphold  thee,'  &c. 

"  By  this  time  my  father  revived  again  out  of  his  fit  of 
fainting,  for  I  think  he  did  not  quite  swoon  away ;  he 
repeated  his  cries  as  before,  '  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  me, 
for  I  am  a  sinful  man !  Lord,  spare  me  one  week  more ! 
one  day  more !'  Piercing  words  to  me !  After  he  had 
sat  awhile,  he  felt  an  uneasiness  in  his  bowels,  and  called  for 
a  candle  to  go  into  the  other  room.  I  saw  him  stagger  as 
he  went  over  the  threshold ;  and  making  a  better  fire, 
soon  followed  him,  and  found  him  on  the  floor,  which 
occasioned  me  to  scream  out,  *  Father,  father !'  putting  m;^ 
hands  under  his  arms,  lifting  with  all  my  might,  first  by 
one  arm,  then  by  another,  crying  and  striving  till  my 
strength  was  quite  spent. 

*'  I  continued  lifting  till  I  could  perceive  no  life  in  him, 
and  then  ran  crying  about  the  house,  and  unlocked  the 
door  to  go  and  call  my  brother.     It  being  the  dead  of  the 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  525 

night,  and  no  house  near,  I  thought  there  might  be  rogues 
at  the  door,  who  would  murder  me.  At  last  I  opened  the 
door  and  rushed  out.  It  had  snowed  in  abundance,  and 
lay  very  deep.  Having  no  stockings  on,  the  snow  got  in 
my  shoes,  so  that  I  made  little  progress,  and  at  the  stile 
in  my  father's  yard,  stood  calling  to  my  brother,  not  con- 
sidering it  was  impossible  for  any  one  to  hear.  I  then  got 
over,  and  the  snow  water  caused  my  shoes  to  come  off, 
and  running  barefoot  to  the  middle  of  the  close,  I  suddenly 
imagined  rogues  were  behind  me,  going  to  kill  me.  Look- 
ing back  in  terror,  these  words  came  into  my  mind,  '  The 
angel  of  the  Lord  encompasseth  round  about  those  who 
fear  him  ;'  which  somewhat  relieved  me. 

"  Coming  to  my  brother's,  I  stood  crying  dismally  under 
the  window,  to  the  terror  of  the  whole  family,  who  were  in 
their  midnight  sleep.  My  brother  started  from  bed,  and 
called  from  the  window.  Who  are  you  ?  What's  the  matter  ? 
— O  brother,  said  I,  my  father  is  dead:  come  away  quickly. 
O  wife,  said  he,  it  is  my  poor  sister :  my  father  is  dead ! 
My  brother  ran  immediately  with  two  of  his  men,  and 
found  our  father  risen  from  the  ground,  and  laid  upon  the 
bed.  My  brother  spoke  to  him,  but  he  could  not  answer, 
except  one  word  or  two.  On  my  return,  they  desired  me 
not  to  go  into  the  room,  saying  he  was  just  departing.  O 
dismal  night !  had  not  the  Lord  wonderfully  supported 
me,  I  must  have  died  too  of  the  fears  and  frights  which  I 
met  with. 

**  My  brother's  man  soon  came  out,  and  said  he  was 
departed.  Melancholy  tidings !  but  in  the  midst  of  my 
trouble  I  had  a  secret  hope  that  he  was  gone  to  heaven ; 
nevertheless,  I  sat  crying  bitterly,  to  think  what  a  sudden 
and  surprising  change  death  had  made  on  my  father,  who 
went  to  bed  well,  and  was  in  eternity  by  midnight !  I  said 
in  my  heart,  Lord,  give  me  one  seal  more  that  I  shall  go 
to  heaven  when  death  should  make  this  change  on  me. 
Then    that    word    came    directly,    Isa.   xxxv.  10,    '  The 


526 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


ransomed  of  the  Lord  shall  return  and  come  to  ZIon  with 
songs  and  everlasting-  joy  upon  their  heads,*  &c.  O,  I 
longed  to  be  gone  to  heaven !  thought  I,  they  are  singing 
whilst  I  am  sorrowing !  O  that  I  had  the  wings  of  a  dove, 
then  would  I  fly  away  and  be  at  rest ! 

"  Quickly  after  my  brother  called  in  some  neighbours, 
among  whom  came  Mr.  Farry,  my  bitter  enemy,  with  his 
son,  who  inquired  if  my  father  was  dead.  Somebody 
replied.  Yes  he  is ;  he  then  said.  It  is  no  more  than  what 
I  looked  for ;  though  no  notice  was  taken  of  these  words 
till  afterwards.  Then  some  women  came  in,  and  seeing 
me  sitting  without  stockings,  and  scarcely  any  clothes 
on,  bewailed  my  sorrowful  condition.  This  was  Tuesday 
after  the  Friday  night  that  I  lay  in  the  barn,  when  that 
scripture  was  so  frequently  in  my  mind,  '  Beloved,  think  it 
not  strange  concerning  the  fiery  trial  which  is  to  try  you.* 
I  thought  now  I  had  met  with  fiery  trials  indeed,  not 
knowing  that  I  had  as  bad  or  worse  to  come,  which  I  shall 
now  proceed  to  relate. 

*'  This  very  Tuesday  on  which  my  father  died,  Mr. 
Lane,  who  had  met  Mr.  Bunyan  and  me  at  Gam'gay 
town*s  end,  reported  at  Baldock  fair,  that  we  had  been 
criminally  conversant  together ;  which  vile  report  pre- 
sently ran  from  one  end  of  the  fair  to  the  other,  and  I 
heard  of  it  the  next  day ;  but  that  scripture  came  with 
much  sweetness  and  bore  me  up,  Matt.  v.  11,  'Blessed 
are  ye  when  men  shall  revile  you,  and  say  all  manner  of 
evil  against  you  falsely  for  my  sake.* 

"  We  agreed  to  bury  my  father  on  Thursday,  and  ac- 
cordingly invited  our  relations  and  friends  to  the  funeral. 
But  on  the  Wednesday  night,  Mr.  Farry  sent  for  my 
brother,  and  asked  him,  *  Whether  he  thought  my  father 
died  a  natural  death  ?'  A  question  which  amazed  my 
brother,  who  readily  answered,  '  Yes,  I  know  he  died  a 
natural  death.'  Mr.  Farry  replied,  But  I  believe  he  did 
not,  and  I  have  had  my  horse  out  of  the  stable  twice  a  day 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  527 

to  fetch  Mr.  Hatfield,  of  Potten,  but  considered  that  you 
are  an  officer  of  the  parish,  therefore  leave  it  to  you :  pray 
see  and  do  your  office.  Upon  my  brother's  asking-  him 
how  he  thought  my  father  came  to  his  end,  if  he  did  not 
die  a  natural  death  ?  he  answered,  I  believe  your  sister  has 
poisoned  him. 

"  My  brother  returned  with  a  heavy  heart,  not  knowing* 
but  I  might  lose  my  life  ;  so  he  called  my  sister  up  stairs  to 
speak  with  her  ;  and  there  happening  to  be  a  g-odly  man  at 
sister  Pruden's,  they  sent  for  him,  and  telling  him  the  whole 
affair,  they  all  three  went  into  an  upper  room,  and  spread 
it  before  the  Lord.  My  brother  asked  whether  they  should 
tell  me  ?  They  said.  No,  let  her  have  this  night  in  quiet : 
but  they  themselves  spent  most  part  of  the  night  in  prayer. 

"  Early  in  the  morning,  my  brother  came,  and  began  to 
weep.  Sister,  said  he,  pray  God  help  you,  for  you  are  like 
to  meet  with  hard  things.  I  said.  What  worse  than  I  have 
met  with  already?  Yes,  replied  he,  Mr.  Farry  says  he 
thinks  you  poisoned  my  father.  Hearing  this,  my  heart 
sunk  within  me,  but  I  immediately  said,  Blessed  be  God 
for  a  clear  conscience  ! 

"  We  deferred  the  funeral,  and  sending  for  Mr.  Hatfield, 
the  surgeon,  told  him  the  case,  who  examined  me  how  my 
father  was  before  he  went  to  bed,  and  what  supper  he  eat, 
&c.  I  told  him  all  the  particulars ;  and,  when  he  had  sur- 
veyed the  corpse,  he  went  to  Mr.  Farry,  and  told  him,  that 
he  wondered  how  he  could  entertain  such  thoughts  con- 
cerning me,  assuring  him  there  were  no  just  grounds  for 
his  suspicion.  Mr.  Farry  replied,  he  verily  believed  it  was 
so.  Mr.  Hatfield,  perceiving  that  no  arguments  would 
convince  him,  returned  and  told  us  we  must  have  a  coroner 
and  jury.  I  readily  agreeing  to  this  proposal,  saying,  Sir, 
as  my  innocency  is  known  to  God,  I  would  have  it  known 
to  men,  therefore  pray  be  pleased  to  open  my  father.  This 
he  declined,  saying,  there  was  no  need  for  it,  but  promised 
to  meet  the  coroner  and  jury  the  next  day. 


528  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

"  Now  I  had  new  work  cut  out,  therefore  went  to  the 
Lord  and  prayed  that  he  would  appear  in  this  fiery  trial. 
I  saw  my  life  lay  at  stake,  as  well  as  the  name  of  God  struck 
at,  but  that  word  was  sent  for  my  support  and  comfort,  and 
it  was  a  blessed  one  to  my  soul,  Isa.  liv.  17,  '  No  weapon 
that  is  formed  against  thee  shall  prosper,  and  every  tongue 
that  shall  rise  against  thee  in  judgment  thou  shalt  condemn.' 
Also  chap.  xlv.  24,  '  All  that  are  incensed  against  thee 
shall  be  ashamed.'  Encouraged  by  these  precious  promises, 
we  sent  for  the  coroner  on  Friday  morning.  Mr.  Farry 
hearing  of  it,  told  my  brother  he  would  have  him  meet  the 
coroner  at  Biggleswade,  and  agree  it  there  ;  for,  continued 
he,  it  will  be  found  petit  treason,  and  your  sister  must  be 
burnt.  No,  sir,  replied  my  brother,  we  are  not  afraid  to 
let  him  come  through.  Upon  hearing  this,  I  said,  I  will 
have  him  come  through,  if  it  cost  me  all  my  father  has  left 
me.  I  did  not  know  how  far  God  might  suffer  this  man 
and  the  devil  to  go.  It  also  troubled  me  to  think  that  in 
case  I  suffered,  another,  as  innocent  as  myself,  might  suffer 
too,  for  Mr.  Farry  reported  that  I  poisoned  my  father,  and 
Mr.  Bunyan  gave  me  the  stuff  to  do  it  with  ;  but  the  Lord 
knew  our  innocency  in  this  affair,  both  in  thought,  word, 
and  deed. 

"  Whilst  thus  surrounded  with  straits  and  troubles,  I  must 
own  that  at  times  I  had  many  carnal  reasonings,  though  I 
knew  myself  clear.  I  thought,  Should  God  suffer  my  enemy 
to  prevail  to  the  taking  away  of  my  life,  how  shall  I  endure 
burning !  O  the  thoughts  of  burning  were  very  terrible,  and 
made  my  very  heart  to  ache  within  me !  But  that  scripture, 
which  I  had  often  thought  of  before  my  father's  death, 
came  now  into  my  mind,  Isa.  xlii.  2,  '  When  thou  passest 
through  the  fire  I  will  be  with  thee,'  &c.  I  said  in  my 
heart,  Lord,  thou  knowest  my  innocence,  therefore  if  thou 
art  pleased  to  suffer  my  enemies  to  take  away  my  life,  yet 
surely  thou  wilt  be  with  me  ;  thou  hast  been  with  me  in  all 
my  trials  hitherto,  and  I  trust  wilt  not  now  leave  me  in  the 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  529 

greatest  of  all.  At  last  I  was  made  to  believe,  that  if  I  did 
burn  at  a  stake,  the  Lord  would  give  me  his  presence  ;  and, 
in  a  solemn  manner,  resigned  myself  to  his  disposal,  either 
for  life  or  death. 

"  That  forenoon  in  which  t'he  coroner  was  expected,  some 
christian  friends  from  Gam'gay  paid  me  a  visit,  and  spent 
several  hours  in  prayer,  and  pleaded  earnestly  with  the 
Lord  on  my  behalf,  that  he  would  graciously  appear  for  me, 
and  glorify  his  name  in  my  deliverance.  This  done,  I  re- 
tired,  and  was  much  enlarged  in  begging  the  divine  presence 
this  day,  and  that  I  might  not  have  so  much  as  a  dejected 
countenance,  or  be  in  the  least  daunted  before  them.  I 
thought  to  stand  before  a  company  of  men  for  the  murder 
of  my  own  father,  though  I  knew  my  innocence,  would 
make  me  sink,  unless  I  had  much  of  the  Lord's  presence  to 
support  me.  I  thought,  Should  I  appear  dejected  or  daunted, 
people  will  conclude  that  I  am  guilty,  therefore  I  begged 
of  God  that  he  would  carry  me  above  the  fears  of  men, 
devils,  and  death,  and  give  me  faith  and  courage  to  lift  up 
my  head  before  my  accusers.  Immediately  that  scripture 
darted  into  my  mind.  Job  xvii.  9,  '  The  righteous  also 
shall  hold  on  his  way,  and  he  that  hath  clean  hands  shall 
be  stronger  and  stronger.'  Then  I  broke  out,  Lord,  thou 
knowest  my  heart  and  my  hands  are  clear  in  this  matter. 
This  was  such  a  suitable  word  that  I  could  hardly  have  had 
such  another,  and  the  Lord  made  every  tittle  of  it  good 
before  the  sun  went  down,  so  that  I  was  helped  to  look 
mine  enemy  in  the  face  with  boldness. 

"  Presently  word  was  brought  that  the  coroner  and  jury 
were  at  my  brother's ;  and  when  they  had  put  up  their 
horses  they  came  to  view  the  corpse.  I  sat  with  some 
neighbours  by  the  fire,  as  they  passed  through  the  house 
into  the  room  where  my  father  lay ;  some  of  the  jurymen 
came,  and,  taking  me  by  the  hand,  with  tears  running  down 
their  cheeks,  said,  '  Pray  God  be  thy  comfort ;  thou  art  as 
innocent  as  I  am,  I  believe.'  Thus  one  and  another  spake 
3  Y 


530 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


to  me,  which  I  looked  upon  as  a  wonderful  mercy  to  find 
they  believed  me  not  guilty. 

"  When  the  coroner  had  viewed  the  corpse,  he  came  to 
warm  himself  by  the  fire  where  I  sat,  and  looking  stedfastly 
at  me,  he  said,  '  Are  you  the  daughter  of  the  deceased  ?* 
I  answered,  Yes.  He  replied,  *  Are  you  the  person  who 
was  in  the  house  alone  with  him  when  he  was  struck  with 
death  ?*  '  Yes,  sir,  I  am  she.'  He  then  shook  his  head  ; 
at  which  I  feared  his  thoughts  were  evil  toward  me. 

"  The  jury  also  having  taken  their  view,  they  went  to  dine 
at  my  brother's  ;  after  which  they  proceeded  to  business  and 
sent  for  me.  As  I  was  going,  my  heart  went  out  much  to 
the  Lord  that  he  would  stand  by  me.  Then  came  these 
words,  Isa.  liv.  4,  '  Fear  not,  for  thou  shalt  not  be  ashamed.' 
And  before  I  came  to  my  brother's  house,  my  soul  was 
made  like  the  chariots  of  Aminadab,  being  wonderfully 
supported,  even  above  what  I  could  ask  or  think. 

"  When  I  got  there,  my  brother  sent  for  Mr.  Farry,  who 
not  coming  soon,  he  sent  again  ;  at  last  he  came.  Then 
the  coroner  called  the  witnesses,  being  my  brother's  men, 
who  were  sworn  ;  he  asked  them  whether  they  were  present 
when  my  father  died  ?  what  words  they  heard  him  speak  ? 
&c.  And  when  they  had  answered,  he  called  Mr.  Farry, 
and  gave  him  his  oath.  '  Come,'  said  he,  '  as  you  are  the 
occasion  of  our  coming  together,  we  would  know  what  you 
have  to  say  about  this  maid's  murdering  her  father,  and  on 
what  grounds  you  accuse  her  ? '  Mr.  Farry,  but  in  a  con- 
fused manner,  told  the  coroner  of  the  late  difference  between 
my  father  and  me,  how  I  was  shut  out  of  doors,  and  that 
my  father  died  but  two  nights  after  I  was  admitted.  No 
body  knew  what  to  make  of  this  strange  preamble ;  but  I 
stood  in  the  parlour  amongst  them,  with  my  heart  as  full  of 
comfort  as  it  could  hold,  being  got  above  the  fear  of  men 
or  devils. 

"  The  coroner  said,  '  This  is  nothing  to  the  matter  ii 
hand ;  what  have  you  to  accuse  this  young  woman  with  ?*1 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN,  531 

To  which  Mr.  Farry  replied  little  or  nothing-  to  the  pur- 
pose ;  and  at  the  same  time  returning-  cross  answers,  the 
coroner  was  very  angry,  and  bid  him  stand  by.  Then  I 
was  called.  '  Come,  sweetheart,'  said  the  coroner,  *  tell 
ns,  where  was  you  that  night  your  father  shut  you  out?' 
(for  the  man,  who  went  to  Bedford  for  him,  had  related 
matters  as  they  rode  along-.)  I  answered,  *  Sir,  I  was  in 
the  barn  all  night.* — '  And  was  you  there  alone  ?' — '  Yes, 
sir,  I  had  nobody  with  me.'  He  shook  his  head  and  pro- 
ceeded :  '  Where  did  you  go  next  morning  ?' — '  Sir,  I  staid 
in  the  yard  till  nine  or  ten  o'clock,  entreating  my  Father 
to  let  me  go  in,  but  he  would  not.' 

"  At  this  he  seemed  concerned,  and  asked,  where  I  was  the 
remaining  part  of  the  day  ?  I  said,  at  my  brother's,  and  lay 
there  the  following  night.  '  When  did  your  father  let  you 
come  in?' — *  On  the  Lord's  day  evening.' — 'Was  he  well 
when  you  came  in  ?' — '  Yes,  sir.' — *  How  long  did  he  live 
afterward?' — *Till  Tuesday  night,  sir.' — 'Was  he  well 
that  day  ?' — '  Yes,  sir,  as  well  as  ever  I  saw  him  in  my 
life,  and  he  eat  as  hearty  a  dinner.' — '  In  what  manner 
was  he  taken,  and  at  what  time.' — '  Near  midnight,  com- 
plaining of  a  pain  at  his  heart.  I  heard  him  groan,  and 
made  all  haste  to  light  a  candle ;  and  when  I  came,  I  found 
him  sitting  up  in  his  bed,  and  crying  out  of  a  pain  in  his 
heart ;  and  he  said  he  should  presently  die,  which  frightened 
me  much,  so  that  I  could  scarce  get  on  my  clothes  ;  when 
I  made  a  fire,  and  my  father  rose  and  sat  by  it.  I  got  him 
something  warm,  of  which  he  drank  a  little,  but  straining 
to  vomit,  he  fainted  away  while  I  held  his  head,  and  could 
not  leave  him  to  call  in  assistance,  fearing  lest,  in  my  ab- 
sence, he  should  fall  into  the  fire.' 

"  The  coroner  further  proceeded  :  '  Was  there  nobody  in 
the  house  with  you  ?' — '  No,  sir,'  I  said,  '  I  had  none  witli 
me  but  God.  At  length  my  father  came  a  little  again  to 
himself,  and  went  into  the  other  room,  whither  I  soon  fol- 
lowed him,  and  found  him  fallen  along  upon  the  floor ;  at 


532  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

which  sight  I  screamed  out  in  a  most  dismal  manner,  yet  I 
tried  to  raise  him  up,  but  in  vain ;  till  at  last,  being-  almost 
spent,  I  ran  to  my  brother's  in  a  frightful  condition. 

"  Having  given  him  this  relation,  the  coroner  said,  'Sweet- 
heart, I  have  no  more  to  say  to  you ;'  and  then  addressed 
himself  to  the  jury,  whose  verdict  being  given,  he  turned 
himself  to  Mr.  Farry,  and  said,  '  You,  sir,  who  have  defamed 
this  young  woman  in  this  public  manner,  endeavouring  to 
take  away  her  good  name,  yea,  her  life  also,  if  you  could, 
ought  to  make  it  your  business  now  to  establish  her  repu- 
tation. She  has  met  with  enough  in  being  alone  with  her 
father,  when  seized  with  death  ;  you  had  no  need  to  add  to 
her  affliction  and  sorrow  ;  and  if  you  were  to  give  her  five 
hundred  pounds,  it  would  not  make  amends.' 

"  He  then  came  to  me,  and  taking  me  by  the  hand,  said, 
*  Sweetheart,  do  not  be  daunted,  God  will  take  care  of  thy 
preferment,  and  provide  thee  a  husband,  notwithstanding 
the  malice  of  this  man.  I  confess  these  are  hard  things  for 
one  so  young  as  thou  art  to  meet  with.  Blessed  be  God 
for  this  deliverance,  and  never  fear  but  he  will  take  care  of 
thee.*  Then,  addressing  myself  to  the  coroner  and  jury, 
1  said,  *  Sirs,  if  you  are  not  all  satisfied,  I  am  free  my  father 
should  be  opened  ;  as  my  innocence  is  known  to  God,  I 
would  have  it  known  to  you  also,  for  I  am  not  afraid  of  my 
life.' — *  No,'  replied  the  coroner,  'we  are  satisfied,  there  is 
no  need  of  having  him  opened ;  but  bless  God  that  the 
malice  of  this  man  broke  out  before  thy  father  was  buried.* 

"  The  room  was  full  of  people,  and  great  observation  made 
of  my  looks  and  behaviour.  Some  gentlemen  who  were  on 
the  jury,  as  I  was  afterwards  told,  said,  that  they  should 
never  forget  with  what  a  cheerful  countenance  I  stood 
before  them.  I  know  not  how  I  looked,  but  this  I  know, 
my  heart  was  as  full  of  peace  and  comfort  as  it  could  hold. 
The  jurymen  were  all  much  concerned  for  me,  and  were 
observed  to  weep  when  the  coroner  examined  me.  Indeed 
I  have  abundant  cause  to  bless  God  that  they  were  deeply 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  533 

convinced  of  my  innocence,  and  I  have  heard  some  of  them 
were  so  affected  with  my  case,  that  they  would  speak  of  me 
with  tears  a  twelvemonth  after. 

"When  the  coroner  and  company  were  gone,  we  sent  again 
to  our  friends  to  invite  them  to  the  funeral,  which  was  on 
Saturday  night.  I  now  thought  my  trials  on  this  account 
were  over,  and  that  Mr.  Farry  had  vented  all  his  malice, 
but  was  mistaken  ;  for  seeing  he  could  not  take  away  my 
life,  his  next  attempt  was  to  deprive  me  of  that  substance 
my  father  had  left  me.  Accordingly  he  sends  for  my 
brother-in-law  as  he  was  going  from  my  father's  grave,  and 
informed  him  how  things  were  left  in  the  will,  telling  him 
that  his  wife  was  cut  off  with  a  shilling,  but  that  he  could 
put  him  in  a  way  to  come  in  for  a  share.  (Mr.  Farry  was 
an  attorney,  and  made  the  will  about  three  years  before 
her  father's  death,  at  which  time  he  put  her  father  forward 
to  give  her  more  than  her  sister,  because  of  a  design  he 
then  had  of  marrying  her ;  but  upon  her  going  to  the 
meetings  and  becoming  religious,  he  turned  to  be  her  bitter 
enemy,  was  filled  with  implacable  malice  and  hatred,  and 
did  all  in  his  powder  to  prejudice  the  mind  of  her  father 
against  her.  She  knew  not  but  that  the  will  had  been 
altered,  but  it  was  not.) 

"  This  was  a  new  trouble.  My  brother-in-law  (not  her 
own  brother  who  attended  the  meeting,  and  sympathised 
with  her  under  her  suflPerings,  as  before  related,  but  her 
sister's  husband)  threatened,  if  I  would  not  resign  part  of 
what  my  father  had  left,  he  would  begin  a  suit  at  law.  Mr. 
Farry  prompted  him  on,  saying,  '  Hang  her,  drown  her ; 
do  not  let  her  go  away  with  so  much  more  than  your  wife,' 
&c.  And  to  law  we  were  going,  to  prevent  which,  and 
for  the  sake  of  peace,  I  satisfied  my  brother  with  a  hand- 
some present. 

"  About  a  month  after  my  father  was  buried,  another 
report  was  spread  at  Biggleswade,  that  Agnes  Beaumont 
had  now  confessed  she  poisoned  her  father,  and  was  quite 


534  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

distracted.  *  Is  it  true  ?*  said  some.  '  Yes,  it  is  true/  said 
others.  I  have  heard  the  defaming  of  many  ;  *  report,  say 
they,  and  we  will  report  it.'    Jer.  xx.  10. 

"  But  I  was  determined,  if  it  pleased  God  to  spare  me 
till  next  market-day,  I  would  go  and  let  them  see  I  was  not 
distracted,  and  accordingly  went  (though  it  was  frost  and 
snow)  on  Wednesday  morning  ;  I  called  at  my  sister  Eveart's 
to  rest,  and  when  the  market  was  at  the  height,  shewed 
myself  among  the  people,  which  put  a  stop  to  their  business 
for  a  time  ;  for  their  eyes  were  upon  me,  and  some  I  saw 
whispering  and  pointing,  and  others  talking  in  companies, 
while  I  walked  through  and  through  with  this  thought,  If 
there  were  a  thousand  more  of  you,  I  would  lift  up  my 
head  before  you  all.  That  day  I  was  well  in  my  soul,  and 
therefore  exceeding  cheerful.  Many  people  came  and  spake 
to  me  saying,  '  We  now  see  that  you  are  not  distracted.* 

"  Some  I  saw  cry,  but  some  others  laughed ;  O!  thought 
I,  mock  on,  there  is  a  day  coming  that  will  clear  up  all. 
That  was  a  wonderful  scripture,  Psalm  xxxvii.  6,  *  And 
he  shall  bring  forth  thy  righteousness  as  the  light,  and  thy 
judgment  as  the  noon  day.' 

"  After  this  another  report  was  raised,  in  a  different  part 
of  the  country,  that  Mr.  Bunyan  was  a  widower,  and  gave 
me  counsel  to  poison  my  father,  that  he  might  marry  me  ; 
which  plot  was  agreed  on,  they  said,  as  we  went  to  Gam'gay. 
But  this  report  rather  occasioned  mirth  than  mourning, 
because  Mr.  Bunyan  at  the  same  time  had  a  good  wife 
living. 

"  Now,  thought  I,  surely  Mr.  Farry  has  done  with  me ; 
but  the  next  summer  a  fire  broke  out  in  the  town ;  how  it 
came  to  pass  no  one  could  tell,  but  Mr.  Farry  soon  found 
a  person  on  whom  to  charge  it,  for  he  affirmed  that  it  was 
I  who  set  the  house  on  fire  ;  but,  as  the  Lord  knoweth,  I 
knew  nothing  of  this  fire  till  the  doleful  cry  reached  my 
ears.     This  malicious  slander  was  not  much  regarded. 

"  Thus  I  have  related  both  the  good  and  evil  things  I 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  535 

have  met  with  in  past  dispensations  of  Providence,  and 
have  reason  to  wish  it  was  as  well  with  my  soul  now  as 
then.  And  one  mercy  the  Lord  added  to  all  the  rest, 
which  I  cannot  but  mention  ;  namely,  that  he  kept  me  from 
prejudice  against  Mr.  Farry,  for  notwithstanding  he  had  so 
greatly  injured  me,  I  was  helped  to  cry  to  the  Lord,  and 
that  with  many  tears,  for  mercy  on  his  soul.  I  can  truly 
say  that  I  earnestly  longed  after  his  salvation,  and  begged 
of  God  to  forgive  him,  whatever  he  had  said  or  done  to 
my  hurt." 

I  cannot  add  much  to  this  wonderful  narrative,  although 
I  inquired  not  a  little  into  the  facts  of  it.  I  found  Mrs. 
Beaumont's  name  written,  Agnis  Behement,  in  Bunyan's 
Church  Book ;  and  pronounced  Behment,  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Gamlingay.  There  is  also  a  vague  tradition 
in  that  country,  that  Farry  robbed  a  widow,  who  first  made 
him  refund,  and  then,  instead  of  forgiving  him,  or  praying 
for  him,  as  Agnes  Behment  did,  prosecuted  him.  Bunyan's 
memory,  and  that  of  Agnes,  are  still  fresh  and  fragrant  in 
Gamlingay,  and  throughout  all  the  neighbourhood. 


53Q  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


CHAPTER   XLIII. 


BUNYAN  S    PASTORSHIP. 


Although  Bunyan  began  to  preach  in  1656,  he  was  not 
ordained  until  1671.      The  record  in  the  Church  Book, 
which  I  have  examined,  runs  thus ; — *'  On  the  24th  of 
August,  167 1,  the  Church  were  directed  to  seek  God  about 
the  choice  of  Brother  Bunyan  to  the  office  of  Elder  or  co- 
pastor  :  to  which  office  he  was  called  on  the  24th  of  the 
tenth  month  in  the  same  year,  when  he  received  of  the 
Elders  (the  other  Pastors)  the  right-hand  of  fellowship.'* 
Thus  the  Church  chose  and  ordained  him,  whilst  he  was 
yet  a  prisoner.     But  his  imprisonment  was  not  strict  at  the 
time.      His  name   appears  in  the  Minutes  of  the  Church 
Meetings  in  1669,  1670,  and  1671.      I  found  also  three 
appointments  for  him  in  1668,  to  visit  disorderly  members 
of  the  Church.     This  freedom  must,  I  think,  be  ascribed 
to  the  Jailor :  for,  as  Ivimey  justly  observes,  *'  The  tide  in 
the  House  of  Commons  ran  strongly  on  the  side  of  perse- 
cution" at  the  time.     The  Conventicle  Act  was  revived  in 
1669,  with  new  and   inhuman  clauses,  and  received  the 
royal  assent  early  in  1670.      In  the  face  of  this  ferocious 
edict,  however,  the  Church  at  Bedford  elected  Bunyan  ! 
They  thought,  perhaps,  that  the  very  ferocity  of  the  Act 
would  defeat  itself.     Or,  if  they  were  not  thus  far-sighted 
in  the  impolicy  of  craft  and  cruelty,  they  evidently  had  faith 
in  the  religious  maxim, — "  That  man's  extremity  is  God's 
opportunity." 

It  is  a  curious  fact,  that  Bunyan  followed  up  his  ordina- 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  537 

tion  by  answering-  Dr.  Fowler's  work  on  "■  The  Design  of 
Christianity."  This  was  a  bold  stroke,  and  as  speedy  as  it 
was  spirited :  for  he  says  to  the  Doctor,  "  I  could  not 
obtain  your  work  till  this  13th  of  the  Eleventh  month; 
which  was  too  soon  for  you  Sir ;"  and  yet  he  finished  his 
masterly  answer  on  "  the  27th  of  the  Twelfth  month,  1671." 
It  \vas  published  in  a  small  quarto,  containing  118  pages, 
by  "  Smith,  at  the  Elephant  and  Castle,  near  Temple- 
Bar,"  and  is  dated  "  from  Prison.'*  It  is,  although  not 
*'  one  of  his  best  pieces,"  as  Ivimey  says,  yet  a  very  re- 
markable treatise  on  Justification  by  faith ;  and  must  have 
completed  the  confidence  of  the  Church  in  their  choice  of 
Bunyan  to  the  pastorate.  They  had  long  known  him  as  a 
good  Minister  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  it  proved  him  to  be  an 
able  Minister  of  the  New  Testament.  Fowler  also  found 
him  so ;  and  in  his  rage  under  the  lash,  got  up  78  pages 
of  unparalleled  Billingsgate,  in  an  answer  entitled  "  Dirt 
Wip't  off,  or  a  manifest  discovery  of  the  gross  ignorance, 
erroneousness,  and  most  unchristian  and  wicked  spirit  of 
John  Bunyan,  Lay  Preacher  in  Bedford  ;  which  he  hath 
shewn  in  a  vile  pamphlet."  This  tirade  was  published  in 
1672,  "  by  Royston,  bookseller  to  His  most  sacred  Ma- 
jesty ; "  and  with  the  Lambeth  imprimatur  of  Tho  :  Tom- 
kyns.  It  does  not  bear  Fowler's  name  ;  but  pretends  to 
be  the  work  of  an  anonymous  friend.  And  it  may  have 
been  written  by  an  amanuensis :  but,  throughout,  it  is 
evidently  the  dictate  of  Fowler  himself.  I  am  compelled 
to  say  this,  after  many  zealous  efforts  to  remove  the  odium 
of  vulgar  scurrility  from  a  scholar  who  reached  the  bench. 
The  only  thing  creditable  to  him  in  the  affair,  is,  that  he 
did  not  wear  his  mask  well  enough  to  conceal  himself.  A 
worse  man  would  have  worn  it  better. 

Those  who  have  the  opportunity  of  reading  Bunyan's 

work  on  Justification,  will  enjoy  it  most  by  viewing  it  as 

the  breathings  of  his  spirit,  whilst  his  ordination  vows  were 

fresh    upon    his    memory  and   conscience.      Perhaps,    he 

3z 


538  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

intended  it  to  prepare  his  Church  for  his  stated  ministry, 
quite  as  much  as  to  warn  the  public  against  Fowlerism. 
That  Church  had  passed  a  resolution  in  1660,  which  I 
have  copied  from  their  minutes,  "  That  Brother  Bunyan  do 
prepare  to  speak"  before  them,  **  and  that  Brother  White- 
man  fail  not  to  speak  to  him  of  it/'  He  did  not  forget 
this  requisition  to  prepare,  when  they  called  him  to  be  a 
Pastor,  eleven  years  afterwards.  Then  he  proved  to  them 
by  his  answer  to  Dr.  Fowler,  that  he  was  prepared. 

I  mention  this,  to  shew  that  such  Churches  did  not  admit 
preachers  indiscriminately,  although  they  often  called  forth 
uneducated  men,  of  whose  talents  and  piety  they  had  *'  good 
experience."  So  far  were  they  from  countenancing  igno 
rant  men,  that  they  subjected  their  candidates  to  an  ordeal 
of  preaching  or  expounding  before  the  Church,  to  which 
the  theological  examination  of  a  Bishop's  Chaplain,  apart 
from  the  Greek  and  Hebrew  of  it,  is  a  gentle  probation. 
I  do  not  mean,  of  course,  that  they  were  questioned  or 
tested  by  a  Formula ;  but  that  they  had  to  approve  them- 
selves sound  in  the  faith  and  mighty  in  the  Scriptures,  to  a 
prayerful  and  thoughtful  assembly  of  men  and  women,  who 
made  the  Bible  all  in  all  in  religion.  Neither  assent  nor 
consent  to  a  Creed  satisfied  these  Churches.  They  judged 
candidates  for  holy  orders,  by  their  gift  in  prayer,  and  their 
power  in  preaching.  They  expected  a  confession  of  Faith 
from  them  at  their  ordination  ;  but  it  rather  consisted  of 
definitions  and  reasons,  than  of  forms  of  sound  words. 
Let  any  one  who  doubts  this,  read  Bunyan's  Confession  of 
Faith,  in  the  1st  volume  of  his  Works.  There,  indeed,  it 
has  no  date  ;  and  thus  it  is  not  known  as  the  avowal  he 
made  at  his  ordination.  It  was,  however,  published  in 
1 672,  the  year  after  his  ordination,  and  whilst  he  was  yet 
in  prison.  I  have  ascertained  this  from  a  list  of  his  Works, 
which  he  himself  enabled  his  friend,  the  Rev.  Charles  Doe, 
to  draw  up.  I  am  indebted  to  Mr.  Kilpin  and  his  friends, 
of  Bedford,  for  an  original  copy  of  the  Circular,  in  which 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  539 

Doe  published  this  list.     It  bears  date,   1691  ;  three  years 
after  Bunyan's  death. 

This  clue  to  the  succession  of  his  Works,  enables  me  to 
throw  some  light  upon  the  history  of  his  pastorate,  which 
has  hitherto  been  unknown.  His  Confession  of  Faith  was 
accompanied  with  what  he  calls,  "  A  Reason  of  my  Prac- 
tice ;  shewing-  that  I  can  communicate  with  those  visible 
saints  that  differ  about  Water  Baptism.*'  This  Reason  set 
the  champions  of  strict  communion  in  a  rage.  They  had 
long"  annoyed  him  ;  but  now  they  slandered  him.  He  calls 
their  Work,  "  A  Book  written  by  the  Baptists,  and  pub- 
lished by  Mr.  T.  P.  (Paul)  and  Mr.  W.  K.  (Kiffin?)  It 
appeared  just  as  he  was  entering  upon  his  pastoral  duties, 
and  upon  his  old  itineracies,  as  a  free  man.  This  was  the 
nick  of  time  they  chose  for  an  attack  upon  his  "low  descent," 
and  for  "  stigmatizing "  him  as  "  a  person  of  that  rank 
■which  need  not  be  heeded  or  attended  unto."  Accordingly 
his  answer  to  T.  Paul  (for  he  "■  forgave  Mr.  Kiffin,  and 
loved  him  never  the  worse")  came  out  in  1673.  But, 
although  full  of  argument  and  amenity,  it  was  lost  upon 
Paul.  He  rushed  to  the  rescue  again,  more  foul-mouthed 
than  ever,  and  brought  with  him  Danvers  and  Denn,  to  fall 
upon  Bunyan  "  with  might  and  main."  Not  content  with 
impugning  his  morals,  they  began,  he  says,  "  to  cry  out 
murder,  as  if  I  intended  nothing  less  than  to  accuse  them 
to  the  Magistrate."  Works,  vol.  iii.  p.  1268.  Another  of 
the  party,  Dan,  told  Bunyan  before  Paul's  second  pamphlet 
was  published,  that  it  would  provoke  him  to  what  he  calls, 
"  the  beastly  work,  of  replying  to  bitter  invectives."  But 
it  did  not.  He  left  the  party  to  the  corrosion  of  "  the 
vinegar  of  their  own  spirit,"  and  published  in  1674,  his 
"  Peaceable  Principles  and  True."  Thus  he  was  occasion- 
ally diverted  from  his  favourite  itineracies  in  the  county, 
and  distracted  in  his  ministry  at  Bedford,  by  the  Ishmaels 
of  both  the  General  and  Particular  Baptist  Churches.  He 
did  not,  however,  neglect  his  own  Church.     In  1675,  he 


540  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

published  for  the  benefit  of  their  *'  carnal  relations,"  as  well 
as  for  general  use,  his  masterly  Catechism,  entitled  "  In- 
struction for  the  Ignorant ;"  and  about  the  same  time  also, 
his  elaborate  Work  on  Eternal  Redemption  by  Christ ; 
entitled,  "  Light  for  them  that  sit  in  Darkness.'*  These 
were  followed  in  1676,  by  his  '*  Strait  Gate,"  and  "■  Salva- 
tion by  Grace."  This  list  will  convey  some  idea  of  his  labours 
as  a  Teacher  :  and  what  he  was  as  a  Pastor,  who  looked 
well  to  the  state  of  his  flock,  will  be  best  seen  in  his  treatise 
on  ''  Christian  Behaviour,"  which  was  published  in  1674  ; 
and  in  his  Work  on  ''  The  Fear  of  God,"  in  1679.  There 
is  enough  in  any  of  these  Pastoral  Remonstrances  to  ex- 
asperate hypocrites^  as  well  as  to  ripen  the  imperfect. 
Accordingly,  the  practical  tone  of  his  ministry  at  this  time 
so  exasperated  John  Wildman,  one  of  the  members  of  the 
Church,  that  he  charged  Bunyan  with  inducing  wives  to 
inform  against  their  husbands.  This  charge  the  Church 
investigated  in  1680,  and  found  it  such  a  wanton  slander 
on  Bunyan  and  the  Sisterhood,  that  they  unanimously 
voted  Wildman,  "  an  abominable  liar,"  and  dealt  with  him 
accordingly. —  Church  Book.  It  is  delightful  to  read 
the  respectful  and  affectionate  terms,  in  which  Bunyan  is 
mentioned  in  the  Minutes  of  the  Church  meetings. 

Besides  his  stated  labours  in  Bedford,  and  its  immediate 
vicinity,  he  often  visited  London,  "  where  his  reputation," 
says  Dr.  Southey,  *'  was  so  great,  that  if  a  day's  notice  were 
given,  the  meeting-house  at  Southwark,  at  which  he  gene- 
rally preached,  would  not  contain  half  the  people."  "  I  have 
seen  by  my  computation,"  says  his  friend  Charles  Doe, 
"  about  twelve  hundred  persons  to  hear  him  at  a  Morning 
Lecture,  on  a  working  day  in  dark  winter  time.  I  also 
computed  about  3000  that  came  to  hear  him  at  a  town's- 
end  meeting-house  ;  so  that  half  were  fain  to  go  back  again 
for  want  of  room  :  and  then  himself  was  fain  at  a  back  door 
to  be  pulled  almost  over  people  to  get  upstairs  to  the 
pulpit." — Does  Circular. 


LIFE    OF    EUNYAN.  541 

The  Chapel  in  South wark  is  said  to  have  been  in  Zoar 
Street ;  but  it  no  long-er  exists  as  a  Chapel.  Some  years 
ago,  a  writer  in  the  Monthly  Magazine  ascribed  the  origin 
of  the  building  to  Bishop  Barlow.  A  most  unlikely  source  ! 
The  mistake  was,  accordingly,  soon  and  ably  exposed  by 
B.  Hanbury,  Esq. 

Bunyan  seems  to  have  preached  frequently  at  Pinner's 
Hall  also.  His  Sermons  on  "  The  Greatness  of  the  Soul" 
were  delivered  there  ;  and  they  well  account  for  the  electri- 
fying effect  of  his  ministry.  It  is  impossible  to  read  them 
without  exclaiming,  "  Hell  is  open  before  him,  and  De- 
struction without  a  covering !  "  I  know  of  nothing  so 
awful.  He  makes  the  reader  hear  *'  the  sighs  of  a  lost 
soul."  It  will  be  some  explanation  of  this,  to  quote  a  pas- 
sage from  the  Work.  He  says,  "  Once  I  dreamed  that  I 
saw  two  (persons)  whom  I  knew,  in  hell :  and  methought  I 
saw  a  continual  dropping  from  heaven  as  of  great  drops  of 
Jire,  lighting  upon  them  to  their  sore  distress.  Oh,  ivords 
are  wanting, — thoughts  are  wanting, — imagination  and 
fancy  are  j^oor  things  here  !  Hell  is  another  kind  of  place 
than  any  alive  can  think."  Thus  he  seems  to  have  had 
awful  dreams,  besides  those  in  early  life.  These  Sermons 
were  preached  in  Pinner's  Hall  ;  and  are  probably  the  very 
Sermons  which  led  Dr.  Owen  to  say  to  Charles  II.,  when 
the  King  upbraided  him  for  hearing  an  "  illiterate  Tinker 
prate,"  "  Please  your  Majesty,  could  I  possess  that  Tinker's 
abilities  for  preaching,  I  would  most  gladly  relinquish  all 
my  learning."  Dr.  Southey  says,  "  That  this  opinion  would 
have  been  discreditable  to  Owen,  if  he  really  entertained 
it,  and  the  anecdote  were  entitled  to  belief."  There  is 
much  truth  in  this  remark.  Owen's  learning  has  been  of 
more  use  to  the  Church  than  Bunyan's  genius,  so  far  as 
her  theology  is  concerned.  And  yet,  if  Owen  heard  the 
Sermons  at  Pinner's  Hall,  which  is  not  unlikely,  as  they 
seem  to  have  been  preached  whilst  his  asthma  unfitted  him 
to  preach,  and  thus  whilst  he  was  preparing  to  give  an 


542  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN 

account  of  the  souls  he  had  won  rather  than  of  the  books  he 
had  written,  we  can  hardly  wonder  at  his  opinion  ;  for  their 
power  and  pathos  eclipse  all  learning,  and  throw  everything- 
into  the  shade,  but  the  wisdom  which  "  winneth  souls." 

Bunyan  seems  to  have  visited  London  annually,  almost 
from  his  liberation  until  his  death.  The  principal  part, 
however,  of  the  time  he  could  spare  from  Bedford,  was 
devoted  to  *'  the  region  round  about."  Accordingly,  not 
a  few  of  the  Baptist  Churches  in  the  county  trace  their 
origin  to  "  Bishop  Bunyan's  itineracies  ;  "  as  do  some  also 
in  the  adjoining  counties  of  Cambridge,  Hertford,  Hun- 
tingdon, Buckingham,  and  Northampton ;  so  wide  was  his 
influence,  as  well  as  his  labours.  His  maxim  in  these 
tours  was,  "  If  I  can  pluck  souls  from  the  clutches  of  the 
devil,  I  care  not  where  they  go  to  be  built  up  in  their  holy 
faith." 

Amongst  the  first  fruits  of  his  labours  in  a  dark  wood 
near  Hitchin,  where  he  often  preached  at  midnight,  were 
the  ancestors  of  the  well  known  Foster  family,  to  whom 
the  cause  of  Missions  owes  so  much  in  Cambridge,  Biggles- 
wade, Huntingdonshire,  and  Hitchin.  Not  more,  however, 
than  they  owe  to  Bunyan ;  as  they  frankly  acknowledge. 
How  I  envied  my  friend  Michael  Foster,  Esq.  of  Hun- 
tingdon, Surgeon,  when  he  said  to  me,  "you  may  suppose 
the  grateful  emotions  of  my  soul,  when  I  think  that  my 
ancestors  saw  with  their  eyes,  and  heard  with  their  ears, 
the  Pilgrim  himself;  and  set  out  with  him  from  the  City 
of  Destruction  ;  and  are  now  with  him  in  the  Heavenly 
City."  The  descendants  of  many  such  ancestors  might  have 
been  able  to  say  the  same,  had  they  been  equally  careful 
to  ascertain  the  fact :  for  "thousands  of  Christians  in  country 
and  town,"  says  Charles  Doe,  "  can  testify  that  their  com- 
forts under  his  ministry  have  been  to  an  admiration,  so 
that  their  joy  shewed  itself  by  much  weeping.  His  Pilgrim's 
Progress  wins  so  smoothly  upon  the  affections,  and  so  in- 
sensibly distils  the  Gospel  into  them,  that  a  hundred  thou- 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  543 

sand  have  been  printed  in  England,  besides  that  it  hath 
been  printed  in  France,  Holland,  New  England,  and 
Welch ;  whereby  the  Author  hath  become  famous,  and  (it) 
may  be  the  cause  of  spreading  his  other  Gospel-Books  over 
the  European  and  American  world,  and  in  process  of  time 
may  be  so  to  the  whole  Universe."  Doe^s  Circular. 

Doe's  enthusiasm  is  delightful.  Indeed,  but  for  his  zeal 
to  preserve  the  whole  of  Bunyan's  Works,  not  a  few  of 
them  must  have  been  lost.  He  calls  himself  in  his  Circular, 
as  he  well  might,  "  The  Struggler  for  the  Preservation  of 
Mr.  Bunyan's  Labours  in  Folio  ; "  and  he  did  struggle  liard^ 
although  he  had  only  been  acquainted  with  Bunyan  about 
two  years.  He  tried  to  get  out  a  Folio  Edition,  even 
whilst  Bunyan  was  alive  to  correct  it :  but  "  an  interested 
Bookseller,"  he  says,  "  opposed  it."  He  was  more  success- 
ful in  1690.  He  obtained  400  Subscribers  to  the  first 
Volume  :  but  failed,  I  believe,  to  bring  out  the  second. 
His  mantle  and  spirit  fell,  however,  upon  Bunyan's  suc- 
cessor. Chandler ;  and  on  Wilson  of  Hitchin.  If  I  have 
caught  any  portion  of  the  Struggler's  spirit  in  preserving 
Bunyan's  Remains,  I  owe  it  to  the  enthusiasm  of  my  vene- 
rable friend  the  Rev.  Samuel  Hillyard  of  Bedford — now, 
alas,  imable  to  represent  his  great  predecessor  in  the  pulpit, 
but  still  glowing  with  the  sacred  fire  which  warmed  my 
heart  for  this  Work  twenty-five  years  ago.  I  wrote  some 
of  the  last  pages  of  Bunyan's  Life,  at  Mr.  Hillyard's  side ; 
and  made  him  smile,  notwithstanding  his  weakness,  by 
charging  him  with  introducing  Bunyan  into  every  speech 
he  had  made  during  this  century.  Before  we  parted  he 
made  me  one  of  the  witnesses  to  his  transfer  of  Bunyan's 
Will  into  the  ancient  Book  of  Bunyan's  Church. 

I  ascertained  at  Bedford,  during  my  visit,  that  Bunyan, 
although  not  arrested  again  after  he  entered  upon  his  pas- 
torate, was  yet  often  pursued,  and  had  some  narrow  escapes. 
One  tradition  is  current  in  Bedford,  which  I  do  not  like ; 
but  I  cannot  disprove  it.     It  is  said,  that  a  constable  who 


544  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

was  about  to  seize  him  in  Castle-I^ane  on  a  dark  night, 
desisted  on  hearing"  him  say, — "The  devil's  in  the  fellow  ; 
what  does  he  want  with  me  !  "  The  constable  let  him  go, 
under  the  conviction  that  John  Bunyan  would  not  have 
used  such  profane  language.  There  is  another  version  of 
this  story,  which  is  more  probable.  He  was  once  over- 
taken when  disguised  as  a  waggoner,  by  a  constable,  who 
asked  if  he  knew  that  devil  of  a  fellow,  Bunyan  ?  "  Know 
him !"  he  replied,  "  you  would  be  warranted  to  call  him  a 
devil,  if  you  knew  him  as  well  as  I  once  did."  Neither  of 
these  stories,  although  both  are  current,  seems  characteristic. 
The  evasion  is  not  like  the  man,  even  if  the  profanity  were 
justifiable.  Not,  however,  that  he  was  very  squeamish  about 
rough  words.  There  are  some  strange  words,  in  the  early 
editions  of  the  first  part  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress.  He 
said  once  to  a  Cambridge  Scholar,  who  interrupted  him 
with  some  logical  subtilties,  whilst  he  was  preaching  in  a 
barn,  *'  Away  with  your  hellish  logic,  and  speak  Scripture." 
The  Cantab  replied,  "  It  is  blasphemy  to  call  logic  hellish ; 
for  it  is  our  reason,  and  thus  the  gift  of  God,  which  distin- 
guisheth  man  from  a  beast."  Bunyan's  answer  was  like 
himself:  "  Sin  distinguisheth  a  man  from  a  beast.  Is  sin, 
therefore,  the  gift  of  God  ?  "  Does  Circular. 

But  in  whatever  way  Bunyan  escaped  from  his  pursuers, 
during  the  last  years  of  Charles  II.,  he  did  escape.  Doe 
says,  *'  It  pleased  the  Lord  to  preserve  him  out  of  the 
hands  of  his  enemies,  in  the  severe  persecution  at  the  latter 
end  of  King  Charles  II.'s  reign,  though  they  often  searched 
and  laid  wait  for  him,  and  sometimes  narrowly  missed 
him."  Ibid, 

About  this  time  he  published  "  The  Life  and  Death  of 
Mr.  Badman  ;  "  "  A  Holy  Life,  the  Beauty  of  Christianity  ;" 
*'The  Pharisee  and  Publican  ;"  with  some  smaller  Treatises. 
I  say,  published  ;  because  Doe's  list  is  no  clue  to  the  date 
of  their  composition.  He,  unfortunately,  did  not  inquire  of 
Bunyan  how  many  of  his  Books  were  written  in  prison  :  or 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN,  545 

if  he  did,  he  paid  but  little  attention  to  the  answer. 
Hence  his  account  is,  "  Whilst  Bunyan  was  in  prison  he 
wrote  several  of  \\\s  published  Books,  as  by  many  of  their 
Epistles  appears,  as,  "  Pray  by  the  Spirit ;  Holy  City ; 
Resurrection,  Grace  Abounding,  and  others  ;  also  the  Pil- 
grim's  Progress,  as  himself  and  'many  others  have  said." 
Doe^s  Circular,  This  is  very  unsatisfactory.  The  Work 
out  of  which  the  Pilgrim  sprang,  whichever  it  may  be,  was 
written  in  prison.  The  Heavenly  Footman  is  generally 
(but  unwarrantably)  supposed  to  be  the  germ  of  that  Alle- 
gory :  but  that  Work  was  still  in  manuscript  when  Doe 
wrote  his  list.  I  have  had,  therefore,  to  judge  chiefly  by 
internal  evidence,  when  I  have  assigned  other  Books,  or 
passages  of  them,  to  the  prison.  I  may  thus  be  occasion- 
ally wrong  in  the  case  of  mere  passages :  and  yet,  I  can 
hardly  be  very  far  wrong  ;  for  the  smell  of  a  prison  is 
even  more  distinguishable  than  "  the  smell  of  the  lamp," 
in  theology.  No  one,  however,  will  be  so  much  pleased 
as  myself,  by  the  detection  of  any  anachronisms,  if  such 
there  be,  in  this  volume.  I  have  had  no  purpose,  which 
errors  can  help  ;  and,  therefore,  have  no  feelings,  which 
their  exposure  can  hurt.  Besides,  it  is  worth  while  to 
obtain  just  views  of  both  the  process  and  progress  of  the 
development  of  Bunyan's  mind  ;  for  as  it  waxed,  but  never 
waned,  all  its  phases  are  improvements,  and  thus  lessons 
which  Philosophy  should  study,  and  Theology  commend. 

I  cannot  conclude  my  brief  account  of  his  Pastorship, 
better  than  in  the  words  of  an  old  Elegy  on  his  death : 

"  He  in  the  Pulpit  preached  Truth  first,  and  then, 
He  in  his  Practice  preached  it  o'er  again." 

Kilpins  and  Wliites  Notes. 


546 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 


BUNYAN  S    BIBLIOGRAPHY. 


In  a  work  which  is  desig-ned  to  illustrate  the  compositions 
of  Bunyan  from  every  source  capable  of  affording-  either 
interest  or  information,—- some  bibliographical  notices  re- 
specting- his  most  famous  production  appear  to  be  equally- 
natural  and  appropriate :  for  though  it  is  certain  that  little 
orig-inal  matter  can  be  communicated  respecting  the  sup- 
posed literary  prototype  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  it  may 
be  useful  to  recapitulate,  from  a  variety  of  sources  not 
commonly  consulted,  the  very  strange  notions  which  have 
been  brought  forward  respecting  it ;  which  will  be  pre- 
ceded by  a  few  particulars  relative  to  the  more  remarkable 
editions  of  the  book. 

There  is  probably  no  one  that  truly  appreciates  the 
character  of  the  Author  of  the  wonderful  allegory  of  the 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  who  will  either  require  or  believe  in 
any  other  original  for  that  work,  than  the  scripture  meta- 
phor that  human  life,  and  especially  a  life  of  Christian 
holiness,  is  a  pilgrimage  "  from  this  world  to  that  which  is 
to  come."  The  image  itself  was  practically  introduced 
when  "  the  Lord  said  unto  Abram,  Get  thee  out  of  thy 
country,  and  from  thy  kindred,  and  from  thy  father's  house, 
unto  a  land  that  I  will  shew  thee"  (^Gen.  xii.  1):  con- 
cerning which  call  the  Apostle  adds  to  the  historian,  that 
he  obeyed  and  "  went  out,  not  knowing  whither  he  went." 
{Heh.  xi.  8.)     Hence  Jacob  described  both   his  own]  life 


LIFE    OF   BUNYAN.  547 

and  the  lives  of  his  prog-enitors  by  the  very  name  of  a 
pilgrim's  progress,  when  he  said,  "  The  days  of  the  years  of 
my  pilgrimage  are  an  hundred  and  thirty  years :  few  and 
evil  have  the  days  of  the  years  of  my  life  been,  and  have 
not  attained  unto  the  days  of  the  years  of  the  life  of  my 
fathers  in  the  days  of  their  pilgrimage."  (^Gen.  xlvii.  9.) 
Such  were  the  simple  facts  ;  but  even  in  the  times  of  the 
patriarchs,  this  wandering  and  occasional  sojourning  in 
various  places  was  regarded  as  purely  typical ;  which  is 
proved  by  the  testimony  of  St.  Paul  when  he  is  writing  to 
the  Hebrews  of  the  ancient  faithful  deceased,  who  "  con- 
fessed that  they  were  strangers  and  pilgrims  upon  the 
earth,*'  that  "  they  sought  a  country,"  and  that  Abraham 
really  *'  looked  for  a  city  which  hath  foundations,  whose 
builder  and  maker  is  God,"  {Heh.  xi.  13,  14,)  as  op- 
posed to  a  temporary  encampment  of  wandering  tribes. 
A  connecting  link  in  the  employment  of  the  metaphor 
between  the  very  ancient  period  to  which  the  Apostle  refers 
and  his  own  times,  is  furnished  by  David ;  and  the  passage 
also  proves  that  the  expression  "  pilgrimage "  was  really 
allegorical,  since  it  was  written  long  after  the  children  of 
Israel  were  in  full  possession  of  "  the  land  of  their  pil- 
grimage," and  a  permanent  temple  to  the  Almighty  was 
about  to  be  erected  therein.  At  the  time  that  the  king 
blessed  the  Lord,  when  the  people  offered  willingly  towards 
the  erection  of  the  temple,  even  in  the  midst  of  his  pro- 
sperity and  honour,  he  says,  "We  are  strangers  before  thee, 
and  sojourners,  as  were  all  our  fathers :  our  days  on  earth 
are  as  a  shadow,  and  there  is  none  abiding."  (1  Chron. 
xxix.  15.  Psalm  xxxix.  12.) 

These  particulars  are  not  only  well  known  to  all  the 
religious  readers  of  Bunyan,  but  probably  also  to  his  readers 
in  general ;  and  they  are  now  adduced  only  to  shew  that  to 
a  mind  so  filled  with  divine  literature  as  his,  without  re- 
garding the  extraordinary  talent  which  he  possessed,  there 
is  no  sort  of  reason  for  looking  any  farther  than  the  Scrip- 


548  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

tures  for  the  orig-inal  of  his  immortal  alleg-ory :  since,  in 
the  very  first  of  the  inspired  books  is  discovered, — to 
employ  his  own  expression, — *'  the  manner  of  the  pilgrim's 
setting-out,"  whilst  in  the  last  is  contained  the  inexpressibly 
splendid  description  of  that  glorious  "  Celestial  City,"  which 
it  was  the  sole  eifort  and  aim  of  the  spiritual  traveller  to 
arrive  at.  From  these  remarks  in  favour  of  Bunyan  having 
derived  his  ideas  and  inspiration /ram  the  Scriptures  alo7ie^ 
it  will  be  proper  in  the  next  place  to  consult  his  own  ac- 
count of  the  origin  of  this  very  remarkable  composition ; 
which,  in  human  language,  appears  to  have  been  purely 
accidental :  it  occurs  in  some  of  his  most  characteristic 
lines  in  the  commencement  of  "  The  Author's  Apology 
for  his  Book." 

"  When  at  the  first  I  took  my  pen  in  hand 
Thus  for  to  write, — I  did  not  understand 
That  I  at  all  should  make  a  little  Book, 
In  such  a  mode :  nay,  I  had  undertook 
To  make  another ;  which  when  almost  done, 
Before  I  was  aware,  I  this  begun. 

And  thus  it  was :  I,  writing  of  the  way 
And  race  of  saints  in  this  our  gospel-day, 
Fell  suddenly  into  an  allegory 
About  their  journey  and  their  way  to  glory." 

If  the  date  of  the  first  impression  of  the  Pilgrim's  Pro- 
gress were  accurately  known,  there  would  probably  be 
neither  doubt  nor  difficulty  in  stating  what  was  the  work 
upon  which  the  Author  was  employed  when  the  thought 
of  this  allegory  occurred  to  him.  The  tract  was  formerly 
considered  to  have  been,  very  possibly,  "  The  Heavenly 
Footman,  or  description  of  the  man  that  gets  to  heaven, 
together  with  the  way  he  runs  in,  the  marks  he  goes  by ; 
and  also  some  directions  how  to  run  so  as  to  obtain."  The 
epithet  "  Footman  "  is  here  used  in  the  sense  which  it  bore 
down  to  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century,  namely,  that  of 
a  domestic  who  runs  before  a  carriage,  or  of  a  traveller  on 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


549 


foot, — on  account  of  the  similarity  between  such  a  person 
and  one  who 

"  runs  and  runs 

Till  he  unto  the  Gate  of  Glory  comes." 

The  following-  passage  in  that  tract  indicates  some  fea- 
tures of  the  Pilgrim's  Prog-ress,  though  it  is  now  more 
probably  ascertained,  from  unquestionable  authority  to  be 
noticed  presently,  that  the  work  was  written  nearly  twenty 
years  before  its  supposed  prototype.  "  Thoug-h  the  way 
to  heaven,"  says  Bunyan,  "  be  but  one,  yet  there  are  many 
crooked  lanes  and  by-paths  shoot  down  upon  it,  as  I  may 
say.  And  notwithstanding-  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  be  the 
biggest  city,  yet  usually  those  by-paths  are  the  most  beaten  : 
most  travellers  go  those  ways ;  and  therefore  the  way  to 
heaven  is  hard  to  be  found,  and  as  hard  to  be  kept  in, 
because  of  these."  Dr.  Southey  rightly  remarks  that  the 
works  of  Bunyan  amount  to  about  sixty  books,  which 
*'  have  been  collected  into  two  folio  volumes,  but  indis- 
criminately arranged,  and  without  any  notice  of  their 
respective  dates  ;  and  this  is  a  great  fault :  for,  by  a  proper 
arrangement,  or  such  notices,  the  progress  of  his  mind 
might  more  satisfactorily  be  traced."  The  information 
which  is  here  so  much  desired,  has  been  almost  completely 
supplied  to  the  Author  of  the  present  work,  in  an  original 
impression  of  a  prospectus  for  printing  the  whole  of  the 
writings  of  Bunyan  in  two  volumes  folio,  issued  in  1691, 
only  three  years  after  his  death,  and  one  year  before  the 
edition  which  was  published  by  the  Baptist  ministers, 
Ebenezer  Chandler  and  John  Wilson.  This  prospectus 
is  printed  in  small  folio  ;  and  contains  thirty  "  Reasons 
why  Christian  people  should  promote  by  subscriptions  the 
printing  in  folio  the  labours  of  Mr.  John  Bunyan,  late 
Minister  of  the  Gospel,  and  Pastor  of  the  congregation  at 
Bedford."  It  is  attached  to  a  copy  of  the  first  volume  of 
the  proposed  edition,  and  is  connected  with  an  "  Index,  or 
alphabetical  table  of  contents  of  the  labours  of  that  eminent 


550  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

servant  of  Christ ; "  with  a  blank  space  intended  for  the 
insertion  of  the  name  of  any  patron  of  the  work,  to  whom 
it  was  to  be  presented  "  by  Charles  Doe  and  William 
Marshall,  because  of  his  good  will  in  subscribing  to  the 
printing  of  this  folio,  1691."  The  design  appears  to  have 
been  undertaken  principally  by  Charles  Doe,  a  Baptist 
Minister,  who  entitles  himself  "  the  Struggler  for  the  pre- 
ceding preservation  of  Mr.  John  Bunyan's  labours  in 
folio."  He  furnishes  a  short  narrative  of  the  Author's  life, 
with  some  particulars  of  the  edition  and  index  then  printed ; 
but  by  far  the  most  valuable  part  of  this  very  interesting 
literary  document  is  the  following. 

"  A  Catalogue-Table   of  Mr.  Bunyan's  Books,   and 

THEIR    succession    IN    PUBLISHING;    MOST(ly)    ACCORD- 
ING TO  HIS  OWN  RECKONING. 

"iVbfe.  Those  that  are  in  Italic  letter,  are  them  that  com- 
pose the  First  Folio :  and  the  rest  are  intended,  when  time 
serves,  for  a  Second  Folio. 

"  1.  Gospel  Truths  opened.  1656.  2.  A  Vindication  of 
that.  1657.  3.  Sighs  from  Hell.  (Nine  impressions.) 
4.  The  Two  Covenants:  Law  and  Grace.  5.  I  will  pray 
with  the  Spirit.  1663.  6.  A  Map  of  Salvation^  etc. 
7.  The  Four  Last  Things.  (Three  impressions.)  8.  Mount 
Ebel  and  Gerrizem.  9.  Prison-Meditations.  10.  The 
Holy  City^  etc.  1665.  11.  The  Resurrection^  etc.  1665. 
12.  Grace  abounding,  etc.  (Six  impressions.)  13.  Justifi- 
cation by  Jesus  Christ.  1671.  14.  Confession  of  Faith,  etc. 
1672.  15.  Difference  in  Judgment,  etc.  1673.  16.  Peace- 
able Principles,  etc.  1674.  17.  Election  and  Reprobation, 
etc.  18.  Light  for  them  in  Darkness.  19.  Christian 
Behaviour.  (Four  impressions.)  20.  Instructions  for  the 
Ignorant.  1675.  21.  Saved  by  Grace.  22.  The  Strait 
Gate.  1676.  23.  The  Pilgrim's  Progress.  (Twelve  im- 
pressions.) 24.  The  Fear  of  God.  1679.  25.  Come  and 
welcome  to  Jesus  Christ.     26.  The   Holy  War.   1682. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  551 

27.  The  Barren  Fig--Tree.  28.  The  Greatness  of  the  Soul, 
etc.  29.  A  Case  of  Conscience  of  Prayer.  30.  Advice 
to  Sufferers.  1684.  31.  The  Second  Part  Pilgrim's 
Progress.  (Three  impressions.)  32.  Life  and  Death  of  Mr. 
Badraan.  33.  Holy  Life,  the  Beauty  of  Christianity.  34. 
The  Pharisee  and  Publican.  1685.  35.  A  Caution  against 
Sin.  36.  Meditation  on  74  Thing-s.  37.  The  First-day 
Sabbath.  1685.  38.  The  Jerusalem  Sinner  saved.  1688. 
39.  Jesus  Christ  an  Advocate.  1688.  40.  The  House  of 
God.  1688.  41.  The  Water  of  Life.  1688.  42.  Solo- 
mon's  Temple  spiritualized.  43.  The  Excellence  of  a 
Broken  Heart.  44.  His  Last  Sermon  at  London.  1688. 
Twelve  Manuscripts,  part  of  the  First  Folio.  45.  Ex- 
position  on  Ten  first  Chapters  of  Genesis.  46.  Justifica- 
tion by  imputed  Righteousness.  47.  PauVs  Departure  and 
Crown.  1692.  48.  Of  the  Trinity  and  a  Christian.  49. 
Of  the  Law  and  a  Christian.  50.  Israel's  Hope  encouraged. 
51.  Desires  of  the  Righteous  granted.  52.  The  unsearch- 
able Riches  of  Christ.  53.  Christ  a  compleat  Saviour  in^s 
Intercession.  54.  Saint's  Knowledge  of  Chrisfs  love.  55. 
House  of  the  Forest  of  Lebanon.  5^.  A  Description  of 
Antichrist.  1692.  Four  Manuscripts  yet  unprinted.  57. 
A  Christian  Dialogue.  53.  The  Heavenly  Footman. 
59.  A  Pocket  Concordance.  60.  An  Account  of  his  Im- 
prisonment.— Here's  Sixty  Pieces  of  his  labours,  and  he 
was  sixty  years  of  age." 

It  appears  from  this  list,  then,  that  the  work  on  which 
Bunyan  was  engaged  when  the  thought  of  the  Pilgrim's 
Progress  entered  into  his  mind,  was  in  all  probability  The 
Strait  Gate,  the  image  whereof  is  to  be  traced  in  that  wicket- 
gate  through  which  Christian  enters  on  to  the  way  of  life. 
The  date  affixed  to  this  composition  is  1676,  and  the  earliest 
copy  of  The  Pilgrim's  Progress  at  present  known  is  the 
second,  "with  additions,"  printed  in  1678;  but  the  time 
thus  supplied  confirms  the  conjecture  that  the  first  impres- 
sion must  have  appeared  in  the  year  previous.     This  sup- 


552  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

position  is  also  supported  by  an  advertisement  of  the  work 
with  the  title  given  at  length,  contained  in  "  A  Con- 
tinuation of  a  General  Catalogue  of  Books  printed  and 
published  at  London  in  Hilary  Term,  1677.  No.  14. 
Licensed,  February  18th,  167|."  Small  Folio.  The  book 
is  announced,  "price  bound  1*.  Qd.  Printed  for  Nathaniel 
Ponder,  at  the  Peacock  in  the  Poultry:"  in  No.  22  of  the 
same  Catalogue  for  Hilary  Term  1679-1680,  the  Fourth 
edition  of  the  Pilgrim  is  advertised  with  additions.  It  is 
probable  that  the  latter  reprint  included  all  the  most  im- 
portant improvements  and  augmentations  which  the  author 
ever  made  in  his  work :  for  in  an  advertisement  on  the 
reverse  of  the  frontispiece  prefixed  to  the  eighth  edition,  it 
is  stated  that  the  fourth  "  had  many  additions  more  than 
any  preceding."  In  particular  Dr.  Southey  notices  *'  the 
whole  scene  between  Mr.  By-Ends  and  his  three  friends, 
and  their  subsequent  discourse  with  Christian  and  Faithful," 
as  having  been  "  added  after  the  second  edition  ;"  and  he 
supposes  that  it  was  written  with  reference  to  some  par- 
ticular case,  the  name  of  the  person  intended  being  proba- 
bly well  known  in  Bunyan*s  circle.  The  same  authority 
adds  that  although  the  ninth  and  tenth  impressions  are  said 
to  contain  additions,  they  have  no  alterations  whatever, 
and  that  there  are  certainly  none  to  be  found  subsequently 
to  the  eighth  reprint,  excepting  such  verbal  revisions  "  as 
an  Editor  has  sometimes  thought  proper  to  make,  or  as 
creep  into  all  books  which  are  reprinted  without  a  careful 
collation  of  the  text." 

Such  appear  to  be  the  principal  particulars  which  are 
now  recoverable  concerning  the  earliest  editions  of  The 
Pilgrim's  Progress  ;  to  which  shall  now  be  added  some 
notices  of  remarkable  subsequent  impressions,  previously 
to  any  farther  consideration  of  the  question  as  to  what  work 
contained  the  original  germ  of  that  exquisite  composition. 
A  series  of  decorations  to  Bunyan,  was  announced  so  early 
diS  before  i}\Q  eighth  edition,  printed  in  1682;  it  being  there 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  653 

stated  in  an  ddvertisement  on  the  reverse  of  the  frontis- 
piece, that  "the  publisher  observing-  that  many  persons 
desired  to  have  the  book  illustrated  with  pictures,  hath 
endeavoured  to  gratify  them  therein  ;  and  beside  those  that 
are  ordinarily  printed  to  the  fifth  impression,  hath  provided 
thirteen  copper-cuts,  curiously  eng-raven,  for  such  as  desire 
them.'*  Another  decorated  edition  was  published  in  1760, 
with  sculptures  by  the  accurate  and  laborious  engraver, 
John  Sturt,  and  in  1775  another  appeared  with  twenty-two 
new  sculptures  ;  but  perhaps  the  most  celebrated  of  the 
older  illustrated  impressions  has  been  that  printed  for 
Heptinstall,  in  1791,  and  of  the  modern  that  edited  by  Dr. 
Southey  in  1830,  which  also  comprises  the  most  complete 
and  accurate  text  ever  published.  "  The  Pilgrim's  Pro- 
gress," says  Dr.  Southey,  "  has  more  than  once  been  done 
into  verse,  but  I  have  seen  only  one  version,  and  that  of 
only  the  First  part.  It  was  printed  by  R.  Tookey,  and  to 
be  sold  by  the  booksellers  of  London  and  Westminster  j 
but  if  there  be  a  date  to  this  version,  it  has  been  worn  off 
with  the  corner  of  the  title-page."  The  first  versification 
of  this  work  was  probably  that  by  —  Hoffmann,  printed  in 
1 706,  adorned  with  cuts ;  another  in  blank  verse  by  .J.  S. 
Dodd,  M.D.,  appeared  in  Dublin  in  1765  ;  and  a  third  was 
executed  by  the  Rev.  Charles  Burdett,  Rector  of  Guild- 
ford, in  Surrey,  and  published  in  1S04. 

*'  A  stranger  experiment,"  continues  Dr.  Southey,  "  was 
tried  upon  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  in  translating  it  into 
other  words,  altering  the  names,  and  publishing  it  under 
the  title  of  the  Progress  of  the  Pilgrim,  without  any  inti- 
mation that  this  imitation  is  not  an  original  work.''  It 
appeared  "  in  two  parts  compleat.  Part  I.  His  pilgrimage 
from  this  present  world  to  the  world  to  come;  discovering 
the  difficulties  of  his  setting-forth,  the  hazards  of  his  jour- 
ney, and  safe  arrival  at  the  heavenly  Canaan.  Part  II.  The 
Pilgrimage  of  Christiana,  the  wife  of  Christianus,  with 
her  four  children  j  describing  their  dangerous  journey  and 
4b 


554  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

safe  arrival  at  the  land  of  the  Blessed,  written  by  way  of 
Dream.     Adorned  with  several  new  pictures.     London  : 
printed  by  W.  O.  for  J.  Blare,  at   the  Looking-glass  on 
London  Bridge,   1705."     In  this   edition   "Evangelist  is 
called  Good-News ;  Worldly-Wiseman,  Mr.  Politic  Worldly ; 
Legality,   Mr.    Law-do ;    the    Interpreter,   Director ;    the 
Palace  Beautiful,  Grace's  Hall  ;   Vanity  town  is  Mundus  ; 
the  Giant  is  Giant  Desperation  of  Diffident  Castle  ;  and 
the  prisoners  released  from  it,  instead  of  Mr.  Despondency 
and  his  daughter  Much-afraid,  are  "  one  Much-cast-down, 
and  his  kinsman  Almost-overcome."    "This  would  appear,'* 
adds  Dr.  Southey,    "to  have    been  merely  the  device  of 
some  knavish  bookseller  for  evading  the  laws  which  protect 
literary  property  ;    but  the  person  employed  in  disguising 
the  stolen  goods  must  have  been  a  Roman  Catholic,  for  he 
has  omitted  all  notice  of  Giant  Pope,  and  Fidelius  suffers 
martyrdom  by  being  hanged,  drawn,  and  quartered.     The 
dialogues  are  much  curtailed,  and  the  book,  as  might  be 
expected,  very  much  worsened  throughout ;    except  that 
better  verses  are  inserted."     It  must  be  evident  to  all  who 
possess  the  slightest  taste  for  natural  and  genuine  talent, 
that  any  attempts  to  improve  its  productions  to  make  them 
accord  with  the  prevailing  language  of  the  period,  must 
terminate  in  a  similar  failure;  or  in  such  an  absurd  version 
as   that  which  the  Rev.  Moses  Browne  executed  of  the 
exquisite  Complete  Angler  of   Izaak  Walton  ;    which  he 
endeavoured  to  refine  by  "  filing  off  something  of  that  rust 
and  uncouthness  which  time  fixes  on  the  most  curious  and 
finished  things."     It  is,  however,  not  a  little  surprising, 
that  so  late  as  the  year  1811,  an  edition  of  the  Pilgrim's 
Progress  was  published  at  Wellington,  in  the  County  of 
Salop,  by  the  Rev.  Joshua  Gilpin,  Vicar  of  Wrockwardine, 
in  which  "the  phraseology  of  the  Author  is  somewhat  im- 
proved, some  of  his  obscurities  elucidated,  and  some  of  his 
redundancies  are  done  away."    In  this  impression  also,  the 
original  poetry  was  altered. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  555 

There  is  no  doubt  that  much  of  the  relig-ious  charm  in 
Bunyan's  allegory  is  the  extraordinary  capability  which  it 
possesses  of  being  read  by  a  variety  of  sincere,  though  dif- 
fering, Christians,  as  an  almost  unive7'sal  sinrituail  language, 
to  be  understood  and  enjoyed  with  their  own  peculiar 
yiews,  and  yet  worthy  of  all  acceptation.  This  feeling 
might  have  been  thought  sufficient  to  prevent  any  Editor 
from  attempting  too  much  in  the  way  of  spiritual  explana- 
tion ;  and  probably  the  most  effectual  method  of  opening 
its  mysteries,  was  that  affirmed  to  have  been  employed  near 
the  time  of  the  first  publication  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress, 
when  several  ministers  thought  it  a  pleasant  and  profitable 
exercise  to  read  and  explain  it  to  their  people  in  private 
meetings.  Even  the  principal  and  most  approved  of  these 
annotated  editions  of  the  work,  are  now  too  numerous  to 
be  recited  in  this  place ;  but  it  may  be  noticed  that  in  1775 
an  impression  was  published,  the  Preface  of  which  stated 
that  there  were  "  now  first  added  practical  and  explanatory 
notes ;  in  which  particular  notice  is  taken  of  such  circum- 
stances as  appear  calculated  to  inform  the  judgment  and 
warm  the  heart ;  "  such  notes  being  inserted  beneath  the 
text  in  the  form  of  paragraphs.  The  separation  of  the  work 
into  chapters,  appears  to  have  been  first  adopted  by  the 
Rev.  G.  Burder,  of  Coventry,  in  his  very  favourite  edition 
originally  printed  in  1786;  and  the  Preface  contains  the 
following  account  of  his  plan.  "  To  render  the  Pilgrim's 
Progress  of  still  greater  use,  this  edition  is  presented  to  the 
public  in  a  form  entirely  new.  The  work  is  divided  into 
distinct  sections,  of  a  convenient  length,  the  design  of  which 
is  to  oblige  the  reader  to  make  a  frequent  pause  ;  for  so 
entertaining  is  the  narrative,  that  the  reader  becomes  in- 
terested in  every  transaction,  and  is  tempted  to  proceed 
with  a  precipitation  that  excludes  proper  reflections.  The 
reader  is,  then,  assisted  to  improve  these  pauses  by  the 
explanatory  notes."  Mr.  Burder's  edition  appears  to  have 
been  always  popular,  and  has  been  frequently  reprinted  ; 


556  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

and  in  the  impression  of  1791  is  inserted  a  parallel  between 
the  Pilg-rim's  Progress  and  Paradise  Lost,  by  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Gillies,  one  of  the  ministers  of  Glasgow. 

In  closing  these  notices  of  the  remarkable  editions  of 
Bunyan's  renowned  work,  the  foreign  versions  of  it  must 
not  be  passed  over  unnoticed.  "  I  believe,"  says  Dr. 
Southey,  that  "  there  is  no  European  language  into  which 
the  Pilgrim's  Progress  has  not  been  translated ;  "  though 
the  French  and  Portuguese  copies  are  somewhat  accom- 
modated to  the  views  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  In 
Charles  Doe's  short  narrative  of  the  Author's  life,  already 
noticed,  it  is  stated  that  the  work  "  hath  been  printed  in 
France,  Holland,  New  England,  and  in  Welsh ;  and  about 
a  hundred  thousand  in  England ;  whereby  they  are  made 
some  means  of  grace  and  the  Author  become  famous,  and 
may  be  the  means  of  spreading  his  other  gospel-books  over 
the  European  and  American  world,  and  in  process  of  time 
may  be  so  to  the  whole  universe." 

It  is  not  improbable  that  to  the  fulfilment  of  this  desire 
is  to  be  attributed  the  entire  disappearance  of  the  original 
edition  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress ;  almost  the  whole  im- 
pression having  been  carried  out  of  England,  and  especially 
across  the  Atlantic,  by  those  nonconformists  who  emigrated 
to  Massachusetts  between  the  years  1677  and  1684,  or 
after  the  publication  of  the  first  part  of  the  work  and 
before  that  of  the  second.  If  this  supposition  be  true,  the 
original  impression  will  most  probably  be  discovered  in 
America ;  and  the  truth  of  it  seems  to  be  supported  by  the 
circumstance  that  the  older  religious  emigrants  were  ac- 
customed to  deny  the  authenticity  of  the  second  part  of  the 
book,  as  not  having  been  published  by  the  author  to  their 
own  personal  knowledge.  In  the  verses  which  are  added 
at  the  end  of  the  first  part  Bunyan  says  to  his  reader, 

" if  thou  shall  cast  all  away  as  vain, 

I  know  not  but  'twill  make  me  dream  again :" 

but  though  the  appearance  of  the  second  part  was  to  be 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  557 

attributed  partly  to  the  triumphant  success,  and  not  at  all 
to  any  neglect  shewn  to  the  book, — certain  dishonest  imi- 
tators appear  to  have  seized  upon  the  hint,  and,  for  the 
purpose  of  securing-  for  their  productions  a  success  of  which 
they  were  altogether  unworthy,  to  have  counterfeited  "  the 
pilgrim  and  his  name,"  to  have  adopted  part  of  the  title, 
and  even  half  the  name  of  the  Author.  The  latter  decep- 
tion was  probably  executed  thus,  "  Jo.  Bun."  according  to  a 
vicious  practice  of  contracting  signatures  which  prevailed 
through  almost  the  whole  of  the  seventeenth  century.  At 
length,  however,  the  genuine  second  part  was  published, 
being  certified  not  only  by  this  imprimatur  on  the  reverse 
of  the  title-page,  "  I  appoint  Mr.  Nathaniel  Ponder,  but 
no  other,  to  print  this  book.  John  Bunyan,  January  1, 
1684  :" — but  also  by  the  matchless  uniformity  of  the  style 
and  interest  of  the  narrative,  with  such  a  prefatory  copy 
of  verses,  entitled  "  The  Authors  way  of  sending  forth  his 
Second  Part  of  the  Pilgrim,"  as  no  man  living  could  have 
written  excepting  himself.  Dr.  Southey  notices  only  one 
of  these  imitations,  which  he  states  has  no  other  relation  to 
the  original  work  than  the  title  ;  and  rightly  observes  that 
*'  it  is  by  accident  only  that  books  of  this  perishable  kind, 
which  have  no  merit  of  their  own  to  preserve  them,  are  to 
be  met  with." — These  notices  of  the  bibliography  of  the 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  shall  now  be  succeeded  by  some  par- 
ticulars of  the  various  sources  whence  it  has  been  so  often 
affirmed  to  have  been  taken. 

It  is  almost  to  be  feared  that  the  remote  and  secret 
spring  of  all  the  industrious  inquiry  after  the  original  of 
Bunyan's  work,  may  be  traced  to  an  envious  wonder  that 
an  illiterate  person,  enlightened  only  by  the  Holy  Spirit  and 
an  intimate  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures,  should  be  found 
capable  of  producing  a  book  which  has  not  its  equal  in  the 
literature  of  any  period,  for  either  language,  treatment,  or 
originality.  Hence,  instead  of  regarding  it  as  a  narrative 
perfect  both  as  to  design  and  execution,  the  proofs  that  a 


558  LIFE    OF    BUN Y AN. 

])revious  idea  was  sug-g-ested  to  the  Author's  mind  seem  to 
have  been  sought  for  chiefly  in  two  particulars,  which  are 
dltog-ether  untenable  and  almost  unworthy  of  examination : 
the  occurrence  of  the  word  "  pilgrim"  or  "pilgrimage"  in 
the  titles  of  older  books,  or  some  supposed  resemblance  in 
ancient  engravings  to  certain  remarkable  scenes  described 
in  the  Pilg-rim's  Progress.  The  oldest  work  which  has  been 
mentioned  as  such  a  prototype,  is  the  celebrated  Pilgrimage 
of  the  Soul ;  and  as  it  is  usual  in  examinations  similar  to  the 
present  to  notice  little  more  than  the  name  of  this  com- 
position, the  reader  will  be  certainly  the  better  enabled  to 
exonerate  Bunyan  from  any  imitation  of  the  book,  if  some 
account  of  it  is  here  inserted. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  fourteenth  century,  when  poetical 
allegories  had  become  common,  it  was  a  very  general  prac- 
tice to  resolve  such  compositions  into  significations  which 
they  were  never  intended  to  bear.  The  famous  Romaunt 
of  the  Rose  was  one  of  these  poems,  in  which  the  poet 
couches  the  difficulties  of  an  ardent  lover  obtaining  the 
object  of  his  passion  under  the  allegory  of  a  rose,  which  is 
gathered  in  a  delicious,  but  almost  inaccessible  garden. 
"  The  theologians,"  continues  Warton,  in  the  Third  Dis- 
sertation prefixed  to  his  History  of  English  Poetry, — 
"  proved  this  rose  to  be  the  white  rose  of  Jericho,  the  New 
Jerusalem,  a  state  of  grace,  divine  wisdom,  the  holy  virgin 
or  eternal  beatitude ;  at  none  of  which  obstinate  heretics 
can  ever  arrive.  The  chemists  pretended  that  it  was  the 
Philosopher's-stone  ;  the  civilians,  that  it  was  the  most  con- 
summate point  of  equitable  decision  ;  and  the  physicians 
that  it  was  an  infallible  panacea.  In  a  word,  other  profes- 
sions in  the  most  elaborate  commentaries  explained  away 
the  lover's  rose  into  the  mysteries  of  their  own  respective 
sciences."  From  this  composition  Guillame  De  Deguille- 
ville,  a  priest  of  the  Abbaye  Royale  of  St.  Bernard  at 
Chagles,  acknowledges  that  he  took  the  idea  of  his  poem 
entitled  "  Le  Romaunt  des  Trois  Pelerinaiges,"  out  of  which 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  559 

was  derived  the  Pilgrimage  of  the  Soul.  In  the  work  of 
Do  Deguilleville,  the  author  relates  that  having  seen  in  a 
vision  the  representation  of  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  he 
conceives  a  vehement  desire  to  behold  it  in  reality.  Whilst 
he  is  considering  the  means  of  procuring  the  habit  of  a 
pilgrim,  a  beautiful  female,  called  Grace  of  God,  appears 
to  him  and  gives  him  instructions  for  the  journey,  with  the 
staffs  of  a  palmer  and  a  scarf,  to  which  she  oflfers  to  add  a 
complete  suit  of  armour  ;  he  declines  the  latter,  however, 
and  takes  with  him  only  the  sling  of  David,  with  the  five 
mystical  stones  which  he  carried  against  Goliath.  The 
pilgrim  encounters  a  great  number  of  difficulties  on  his 
journey,  but  he  overcomes  them  all  by  the  assistance  of 
his  beautiful  guide,  who  attends  on  him  invisibly,  and  who 
has  also  given  him  a  collection  of  prayers  to  recite  by  the 
way.  He  arrives  at  length  at  a  monastery,  where  he  finds 
new  causes  of  vexation  instead  of  that  tranquillity  which 
he  sought.  He  is  overthrown  by  Envy  and  Treachery, 
but  the  Lady  Mercy  recovers  him,  and  he  is  conducted  to 
the  infirmary,  where  his  wounds  are  dressed.  Death,  how- 
ever, is  awaiting  him,  and  strikes  him  so  violent  a  blow 
with  his  scythe  that  the  dreamer  is  awakened,  and  the  first 
part  of  the  romance  thus  concludes.  In  the  second  part 
the  subject  is  continued,  and  the  author  is  dead ;  though 
he  is  conscious  of  his  departure  and  witnesses  the  funeral 
obsequies  which  are  performed  for  his  body.  His  soul 
soars  away  towards  the  celestial  regions,  but  Satan  arrests 
its  flight,  and  it  is  constrained  to  reply  to  all  the  reproaches 
with  which  it  is  overwhelmed  by  the  enemy  of  man.  The 
saints,  however,  come  to  the  aid  of  the  spirit,  Mercy  puts 
to  flight  the  fiend,  and  the  soul  is  conducted  by  its  good 
angel  into  Purgatory,  the  fires  whereof  purify  it  from  all 
its  pollutions.  It  is  at  length  admitted  into  heaven  ;  and, 
under  the  guidance  of  the  angel,  is  led  through  the  blessed 
mansions,  when  a  dazzling  light  awakens  the  sleeper  and 
terminates  the  second  pilgrimage.     The  third  part  consists 


560  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

only  of  the  pilgrimage  of  Christ  upon  earth,  taken  from 
the  Evangelists,  interspersed  with  moral  reflections. — The 
composition  thus  described,  was  originally  written  in  octo- 
syllabic verse,  and  met  with  the  greatest  success  in  the 
fourteenth  century.  The  first  pilgrimage  was  rendered 
into  French  prose  by  Jean  Gallopez,  a  clerk  of  Angers, 
at  the  request  of  Jeanne  I.,  Queen  of  Sicily,  in  1485  ;  the 
style  of  the  whole  having  been  previously  improved  by 
Pierre  Virgin,  a  Priest  of  Clairvaux ;  but  the  second 
pa7't  oyily  has  been  translated  into  English,  and  was 
printed  by  Caxton  under  the  title  of  The  Pilgrimage  of 
the  Soul  in  1483.  After  the  preceding  account  of  the 
work,  it  is  not  very  probable  that  any  reader  will  believe 
that  it  contains  the  germ  of  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  espe- 
cially as  the  whole  action  of  the  piece  passes  in  the  world 
of  spirits,  and  commences  with  the  very  period  at  which 
Bunyan  concludes.  Such  readers,  however,  as  may  be 
desirous  of  seeing  specimens  of  the  language  of  this  ex- 
tremely rare  work,  may  be  gratified  by  consulting  the  first 
volume  of  Dr.  T.  F.  Dibdin's  edition  of  the  Typographical 
Antiquities  of  Ames  and  Herbert,  pages  153 — 158. 

The  Pilgrimage  of  Perfection,  written  by  William 
Bond,  a  brother  of  Sion  Monastery,  and  first  printed  by 
Wynkyn  De  Worde  in  1526,  is  another  book  cited  against 
the  originality  of  Bunyan  with  as  little  propriety  as  the 
former.  The  devotional  treatise  so  called  is  divided  into 
three  parts,  of  which  the  first  shews  that  the  Christian  life 
is  a  pilgrimage ;  the  second  that  it  leaves  the  world,  and 
the  third  contains  the  self-pilgrim  in  a  seven  days'  journey 
assigned  to  the  seven  days  of  the  week,  the  first  five  con- 
taining the  active  life  of  religion,  and  the  last  two  the 
contemplative  life.  The  whole  work  is  a  collection  of 
monastical  literature  and  devotions,  comprising  expositions 
of  the  Pater-noster,  Creed,  Ave,  and  Decalogue ;  with 
copious  extracts  from  the  Fathers  and  emblematical  cuts 
of  the  Tree  of  Grace,  the  Tree  of  Vice,  and  "  the  Star  of 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  561 

Grace,  whose  seven  beauties  be  the  seven  gifts  of  the  Holy 
Ghost."  Tlie  very  term  "  perfection "  is  employed  in 
the  old  monastical  sense  of  the  word,  namely,  a  life  of 
poverty,  self-denial  and  devotion,  and  not  as  the  name  of 
any  place  to  which  the  pilg-rim  is  travelling". 

In  1627  the  celebrated  engraver  Boetius  Adam  Bols- 
waert,  published  at  Antwerp  a  series  of  twenty-seven  small 
allegorical  plates,  which  were  brought  forward  some  years 
since  as  certainly  belonging  to  a  book  containing  the  origi- 
nal of  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  extant  in  French,  Spanish, 
Dutch,  and  other  languages,  long  previous  to  Bunyan*s 
time.  The  title  of  the  work  referred  to,  when  translated 
into  English,  is  "  The  Pilgrimage  of  Dovekin  and  Will-kin 
to  their  beloved  in  Jerusalem,  with  a  narrative  of  their 
adversities  and  the  end  of  their  adventures  ;  described  and 
set  forth  in  emblematical  pictures  by  Boetius  of  Boswaert  :'* 
and  the  design  of  the  allegory  is  to  exhibit  the  active  pro- 
gress of  the  natural  will  and  elevated  affections  in  a  spiri- 
tual life.  The  contents  of  the  volume  are  almost  entirely 
in  dialogue  or  soliloquy,  the  end  of  each  chapter  being 
succeeded  by  a  short  spiritual  explanation  given  in  a  con- 
versation between  an  enquirer  and  an  interpreter ;  and  the 
incidents  of  the  narrative  shew  that  though  the  human  will 
by  following  its  own  desires  may  perish,  the  warmth  of 
devotional  love  will  finally  lead  the  affection  in  happiness 
to  the  Saviour.  Dr.  Southey  has  so  well  related  the 
manner  in  which  this  book  was  first  brought  forward  as 
Bunyan's  original,  and  has  given  so  good  an  analysis  of  the 
narrative,  with  so  complete  a  vindication  of  the  author  of 
The  Pilgrim's  Progress, — that  nothing  more  will  be  re- 
quired in  this  place  than  a  very  few  remarks  on  the  hints 
supposed  to  have  been  suggested  by  the  plates.  One  of 
these  attached  to  chapter  xvi.  is  considered  to  represent 
the  Slough  of  Despond,  which,  however,  in  the  very  en- 
graving is  shown  to  be  that  which  it  is  described  in  the 
text,  a  narrow  winding  marshy  dyke  lying  on  the  left  handy 

4  c 


562  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

out  of  the  pilgrirrCs  road  ;  and  Will-kin  falls  into  it  solely 
from  going-  into  a  bye-path  to  look  at  some  calves  at  play ; 
all  which  circumstances  present  an  image  perfectly  different 
from  the  broad  miry  slough  in  the  midst  of  the  plain, 
having  the  way  to  the  strait  gate  lying  directly  over  it. 
A  village-f^te  with  a  dance  for  a  garland,  and  a  single 
puppet-shew  with  the  stage  of  a  mountebank,  two  separate 
plates  prefixed  to  chapters  v.  and  xxvii.,  have  been  referred 
to  as  the  originals  of  the  elaborate  description  of  Vanity 
Fair,  with  which  neither  the  text  nor  the  plates  of  the 
Dutch  work  have  anything  in  common.  Lastly  Will-kin 
begins  to  boast  of  her  own  works,  and  notwithstanding  the 
entreaties  of  her  sister  Dove-kin,  she  mounts  a  lofty  and 
dangerous  rock  in  order  to  obtain  a  better  prospect ;  but 
she  is  thence  blown  down  by  the  wind  of  vanity  into  a  deep 
pit  full  of  noxious  creatures,  whence  she  cannot  be  deli- 
vered. The  interior  of  this  place  is  represented  in  the 
plate  prefixed  to  chapter  xxxii. ;  and  as  it  exhibits  Will-kin 
deploring  her  miserable  condition  in  darkness,  in  the  midst 
of  a  subterranean  marsh,  surrounded  by  serpents  hissing  at 
her,  with  lightning  and  storm  pouring  down  upon  her, 
the  scene  has  been  thought  to  have  prefigured  the  Valley 
of  the  Shadow  of  Death  in  the  Pilgrim's  Progress.  But 
the  place  of  woe  in  the  Dutch  allegory  is  one  of  final 
despair,  lying  out  of  the  traveller'' s  road,  and  the  way  to  the 
Celestial  City  lay  through  the  midst  of  the  land  of  temporary 
distress  described  by  Bunyan.  The  truth,  however,  is,  that 
the  same  volume  which  supplied  him  with  the  inimitable 
title  of  "  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,"  also  furnished 
such  a  description  of  it  as  no  pictorial  representation  could 
either  suggest  or  express  ;  and  he  refers  at  once  to  his  au- 
thority by  taking  the  words  of  the  Prophet  Jeremiah  into 
his  text.  The  Holy  Scriptures,  then,  with  the  Acts  and 
Monuments  of  John  Foxe,  appear  to  have  contained  all  the 
literary  materials  possessed  by  Bunyan  when  he  *'  lighted 
on  a  certain  place  in  the  wilderness  of  this  world  where 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  563 

there  was  a  den ;"  for  there  is  not  anything-  in  all  his 
Pilgrim's  Progress  which  cannot  be  satisfactorily  referred  to 
one  of  these,  and  this  conclusion  is  in  strict  accordance  with 
the  uniform  statement  that  they  were  the  only  books  that 
he  had  with  him  in  the  prison.  With  respect  to  great 
similarities  existing  between  some  of  the  incidents  of 
Bunyan  and  engraved  emblems,  the  answer  is  plain,  that 
the  images  in  both  were  derived  from  the  Scriptures,  and 
therefore  common  to  several  different  collections ;  that 
most  of  those  books  were  probably  never  seen,  and  would 
certainly  have  been  altogether  disregarded,  by  him ;  and 
that  his  peculiar  manner  of  treating  his  subjects  proves  the 
source  to  which  he  was  indebted.  Mr.  Montgomery  has 
noticed  that  a  poem  entitled  the  Pilgrimage,  in  Geoffrey 
Whitney's  Emblems,  first  published  at  Leyden  in  1586, 
with  the  engraving  prefixed  to  it,  may  have  suggested  the 
first  idea  of  the  story  ;  for,  he  continues,  if  Bunyan  had  had 
Whitney's  picture  before  him  he  could  not  more  accurately 
have  copied  it  in  words,  than  in  the  passage  where  Evan- 
gelist directs  Christian  to  the  wicket-gate.  In  addition,  how- 
ever, to  his  being  familiar  with  this  image  in  the  New 
Testament,  it  had  been  long  since  actually  exhibited  to  him 
in  a  dream,  which  he  has  recorded  in  his  Grace  Abounding. 

There  seems  never  to  have  been  any  supposition  that 
the  Pilgrim's  Progress  was  in  the  slightest  degree  indebted 
to  The  Parable  of  the  Pilgrim,  written  by  Dr.  Simon 
Patrick,  Bishop  of  Ely,  and  published  in  a  thick  small 
quarto  in  1665.  This  work  contains  very  few  incidents, 
being  little  more  than  a  series  of  long  conversations  between 
the  pilgrim  and  his  guide  ;  it  is  well  written  in  the  language 
of  the  time,  though  somewhat  heavy,  and  it  contains  not  a 
few  Roman  Catholic  legends  ;  which  have  occasioned  the 
remark  *'  that  Bunyan's  Pilgrim  is  a  Christian,  but  that 
Patrick's  is  ^l  pedlar  who  deals  in  damaged  wares." 

With  this  work  the  present  bibliographical  notices  may 
properly  be  concluded  ;  but  as  it  may  be  curious  to  put  upon 


564  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

record  the  titles  of  some  other  books  bearing  titles  somewhat 
similar  to  that  of  Bunyan,  which  are  standing-  proofs  of  his 
originality  and  superiority, — a  short  list  of  them  is  here 
added,  with  the  names  of  a  few  more  that  are  evidently 
modern  imitations  of  the  immortal  Pilgrim*s  Progress. 


The  Pilgrimage  to  Paradise  ;  compiled  for  the  direction,  comfort,  and 
resolution  of  God's  poore  distressed  children  in  passing  through  this 
irksome  wildernesse  of  temptation  and  tryall.  By  Leonard  Wright. 
Lond.  1591.  4to. 

The  Pilgrim's  Journey  towards  Heaven.  By  William  Webster.  Lond. 
1613.  8vo. 

The  Pilgrim's  Practice,  containing  many  Godly  Prayers.  By  Robert 
Bruen.     Lond.  1621.  8vo. 

Two  Treatises :  namely,  the  Pearl  of  the  Gospel,  and  the  Pilgrim's  Pro- 
fession ;  with  a  glasse  for  gentlewomen  to  dress  themselves  by.  By 
the  Rev.  Thomas  Taylor,  D.  D.     Lond.  1624.  8vo. 

The  Pilgrim's  Passe  to  the  New  Jerusalem  :  or  the  serious  Christian 
his  enquiries  after  heaven.  By  M.  R.  Gent.  Lond.  1659.  12mo. — 
A  Collection  of  seven  meditations  on  different  passages  of  Scripture  ; 
the  first  of  which  is  called  "  Abraham's  profession  and  the  pilgrim's 
condition ;  or  the  enquiring  sojourner  directed :  a  meditation  on 
Genesis  xxiii.  4." 


The  Pilgrim's  Progress  from  Quakerism  to  Christianity.     By  Francis 

Bugg.     Lond.  1698.  4-to. 
The  Spiritual  Pilgrim,  or  the  Christian's  Journey  to  the  New  Jerusalem. 

By  Henry  Wilson.     Lond.  1710.  12mo. 
Desiderius,  or  the  original  Pilgrim  :  a  divine  dialogue  from  the  Spanish. 

By  the  Rev.  Laurence  Howel.     Lond.  1717.  8vo. 
The  Female  Pilgrim  ;  or  the  Travels  of  Hephzibah :  under  the  similitude 

of  a  dream.     Lond.  1762.  8vo. 

The  Christian  Pilgrim.     By  John  Allen.     Lond.   1800.  8vo. 
The  Pilgrimage  of  Theophilus  to  the  City  of  God.      Wellington,  Salop. 
1812.   8vo. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  565 

I  owe  much  of  this  Chapter  to  a  literary  friend,  who 
will  not  allow  me  to  name  him  ;  although  I  only  furnished 
him  with  Boulsvert's  Pilgrim,  Charles  Doe's  Circular,  and 
a  few  desultory  hints,  in  proof  of  the  fact  that  the  Pilgrim's 
Progress  grew  out  of  "  The  Strait  Gate."  It  will  be  ob- 
served that  nothing  is  said  of  the  Third  part  of  the  Pilgrim's 
Progress  :  I  cannot  join  in  this  silence.  That  Work  may 
not  be  Bunyan's ;  but  it  is  the  production  of  a  man  of  real 
genius.  Mr.  Newton  said,  that  it  was  not  like  Aaron's 
rod  which  budded.  It  is,  however,  so  highly  wrought,  and 
richly  gemmed,  that  it  is,  in  some  points,  very  like  the  Ark 
which  enshrined  that  rod.  Accordingly,  Bunyan's  first 
Biographer  claims  it  for  him ;  although  his  first  Editor 
does  not  even  mention  it.  My  chief  difficulty  lies  in  the 
artificial  structure  of  the  work.  Parts  of  it  are  like  Dr. 
Patrick,  and  some  of  it  is  worthy  of  Butler.  The  diamond 
cave  of  Contemplation  is  worthy  even  of  Milton.  For  my 
own  part,  therefore,  I  should  be  glad  to  find  that  it  was 
Bunyan's.  It  is  certainly  not  like  him  ;  but  it  is  any  thing 
but  unworthy  of  him.  The  Critics  who  despise  it  are  no 
craftsmen^  whatever  else  they  may  be.  They  forget  also, 
that  the  Life  of  Badman  is  2^  fourth  form  of  Pilgrimage,  in 
Bunyan's  opinion,  although  there  is  no  allegory  in  it. 
Bunyan,  at  least,  says  so ;  and  he  is  surely  the  best  judge 
of  his  own  designs.  See  the  Preface  to  the  Life  and  Death 
of  Mr.  Badman. 


566  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 


BUNYAN    S    LAST    DAYS. 


BiTNYAN  evidently  dreaded  every  new  crisis  in  public  affairs. 
He  had  reason  to  do  so.  Vernier's  conspiracy  increased 
the  severity  of  his  first  six  years'  imprisonment.  On  the 
occasion  of  the  Fire  in  London,  he  was  thrown  into  prison 
again.  And  soon  after  James  II.  came  to  the  throne,  in 
1685,  Bunyan  conveyed  the  whole  of  his  property  to  his 
wife,  by  a  singular  Deed,  which  can  only  be  accounted 
for  by  his  suspicions  of  James  and  Jefferies,  and  by  his 
horror  at  the  revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantz.  The  asylum 
which  the  Refugees  found  in  England,  did  not  prove  to 
him  that  he  was  safe.  No  wonder.  "  Kirke  and  his  lambs  " 
were  abroad,  and  the  Bedford  Justices  still  in  power. 

It  was  under  these  suspicious  circumstances,  that  he 
divested  himself  of  all  his  property,  in  order  to  save  his 
family  from  want,  should  he  again  be  made  a  victim. 
These  coincidences  give  peculiar  interest  to  the  Deed  of 
Conveyance ;  a  fac-simile  of  which,  from  the  Original,  is 
now  presented  to  the  public.  The  history  of  its  trans- 
mission I  am  unable  to  give.  There  is,  however,  not  the 
shadow  of  a  doubt  rests  upon  its  authenticity.  Bunyan's 
own  signature  is  unquestionable.  I  have  been  able  also  to 
verify  that  by  the  Instrument  in  which  Ruffhead  conveyed 
to  Bunyan  the  ground  on  which  his  Chapel  was  built. 
The  original  is  now  indorsed  on  the  back  thus  :  "  This 
Will  is  left  by  indenture  hereunto  subscribed,  to  the 
Rev.  Samuel  Hillyard,  Minister  of  Bunyan's  Meeting, 
to    be    presented   to   the    Trustees  of  the   said    Meetinir. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  567 

to  be  held  by  them  in  continuance.  Dated  this  26th  day 
of  October,  1832.  Bedford.  Witness,  A  Brandram,  Secre- 
tary of  the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society  ;  G.  P.  Livius  ; 
J.  S.  Grimshaw,  Vicar  of  Biddenham."  "  According  to 
the  above  Statement,  this  writing-  of  John  Bunyans  was 
put  into  my  hand  at  the  death  of  Mrs.  Livius,  and  it  is  my 
wish  that  it  should  be  attached  to  the  Church  Book. 
Samuel  Hillyard."  "  Witness,  Robert  Philip,  Author  of 
the  Life  and  Times  of  Bunyan  ;  William  White,  Bookseller. 
Bedford,  October  30th,  1838."  Mrs.  Livius,  if  not  a 
descendant,  was,  I  think,  in  some  vi^ay  related  to  the 
Bunyan  family. 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  Deed  would  not  have  secured 
the  entire  property  to  Mrs.  Bunyan.  It  shews,  however, 
Bunyan's  solicitude  for  her  comfort,  and  his  confidence  in 
her  prudence.     And  his  Elizabeth  well  deserved  both ! 

W  hatever  Bunyan  may  have  feared  when  he  thus  dis- 
posed of  all  the  little  property  he  had,  nothing  befel  him 
under  James  11.  He  published  "  The  Pharisee  and  Publi- 
can," in  1685  ;  the  year  of  the  King's  accession:  and  in 
1688,  Ciiarles  Doe  says,  "he  published  six  Books  (being 
the  time  of  K.  James  II.'s  Liberty  of  Conscience)."  This 
appears  from  Doe's  List.  It  throws  also  much  light  upon 
Bunyan's  death.  Such  labour  could  not  fail  to  sap  his 
strength,  even  if  he  did  nothing  but  carry  the  six  Books 
through  the  Press ;  for  none  of  them  are  small,  except  the 
last.  The  usual  account  of  Bunyan's  death  is,  that  he 
caught  cold,  whilst  returning  from  Reading  to  London  on 
horseback.  Violent  fever  ensued,  and  after  an  illness  of 
ten  days,  he  resigned  his  spirit.  Now  all  this  is  as  true  as 
it  is  brief :  but  it  is  not  all  the  truth.  "  He  was  seized 
with  a  sweating  distemper,"  says  Doe,  "  after  he  published 
six  Books  ;  which,  after  some  weeks  going  about  proved  his 
death."  Doe's  Circular.  This  fact  was  not  known  even  to 
his  first  Biographer.  The  Sketch  in  the  British  Museum 
states,  that  "  taking  a  tedious  journey  in  a  slabby  rainy  day, 


568  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

and  returning"  late  to  London,  he  was  entertained  by  one 
Mr.  Strudwick,  a  Grocer  on  Snow  Hill,  with  all  the  kind 
endearments  of  a  loving  friend  ;  but  soon  found  himself 
indisposed  with  a  kind  of  shaking^  as  it  were  an  Ague, 
which  increasing  to  a  kind  of  Fever,  he  took  to  his  bed, 
where  growing  worse,  he  found  he  had  not  long  to  last 
in  this  world,  and  therefore  prepared  himself  for  another, 
towards  which  he  had  been  journeying  as  a  Pilgrim  and 
Stranger  upon  earth,  the  prime  of  his  days.*' — P.  35. 

The  occasion  of  his  journey  to  Reading,  which  has 
always  been  called,  "  a  labour  of  love  and  charity,"  will 
now  be  more  interesting  than  it  hitherto  has  been.  It 
was  not  undertaken  by  a  man  in  health;  but  by  an  over- 
wrought Author,  sinking  under  "a  sweating  distemper." 
Mr.  Ivimey's  account  of  Bunyan's  errand,  being  the  best, 
I  quote  it : 

"  The  last  act  of  his  life  was  a  labour  of  love  and  charity. 
A  young  gentleman,  a  neighbour  of  Mr.  Bunyan,  falling 
under  his  father's  displeasure,  and  being  much  troubled  in 
mind  on  that  account,  and  also  from  hearing  it  was  his 
father's  design  to  disinherit  him,  or  otherwise  deprive  him 
of  what  he  had  to  leave,  he  pitched  upon  Mr.  Bunyan  as  a 
fit  man  to  make  way  for  his  submission,  and  prepare  his 
mind  to  receive  him ;  which  he,  being  willing  to  undertake 
any  good  office,  readily  engaged  in,  and  went  to  Reading, 
in  Bedfordshire,  for  that  purpose.  There  he  so  successfully 
accomplished  his  design,  by  using  such  pressing  arguments 
and  reasons  against  anger  and  passion,  and  also  for  love 
and  reconciliation,  that  the  father's  heart  was  softened,  and 
his  bowels  yearned  over  his  son. 

"  After  Mr.  Bunyan  had  disposed  every  thing  in  the  best 
manner  to  promote  an  accommodation,  as  he  returned  to 
London  on  horseback,  he  was  overtaken  with  excessive 
rains ;  and  coming  to  his  lodgings  extremely  wet,  he  fell 
sick  of  a  violent  fever,  which  he  bore  with  much  constancy 
and  patience  j  and  expressed  himself,  as  if  he  wished  nothing 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  569 

more  than  to  depart  and  to  be  with  Christ,  considering  it  as 
gain,  and  life  only  a  tedious  delay  of  expected  felicity.  Find- 
ing his  strength  decay,  he  settled  his  worldly  affairs,  as  well 
as  the  shortness  of  the  time  and  the  violence  of  the  disorder 
would  permit ;  and,  after  an  illness  of  ten  days,  with  un- 
shaken confidence,  he  resigned  his  soul,  on  the  31st  of 
August,  1688,  being  sixty  years  of  age,  into  the  hand  of 
his  most  merciful  Redeemer ;  following  his  Pilgrim  from 
the  City  of  Destruction  to  the  New  Jerusalem,  his  better 
part  having  been  all  along  there  in  holy  contemplations, 
pantings,  and  breathings  after  the  hidden  manna  and  the 
water  of  life."— P.  300. 

As  I  cannot,  of  course,  add  any  thing  to  this,  it  is  the 
more  incumbent  upon  me  to  preserve  whatever  else  has 
been  ascertained  concerning  Bunyan's  death-bed.  His  first 
Biographer  adds,  *'  His  prayers  were  fervent  and  frequent ; 
and  he  even  so  little  minded  himself,  as  to  the  concerns  of 
this  life,  that  he  comforted  those  that  wept  about  him,  ex- 
horting them  to  trust  in  God,  and  pray  to  him  for  mercy 
and  forgiveness  of  their  sins,  telling  them  what  a  glorious 
exchange  it  would  be,  to  leave  the  troubles  and  cares  of  a 
wretched  mortality  to  live  with  Christ  for  ever,  with  peace 
and  joy  inexpressible,  expounding  to  them  the  comfortable 
Scriptures  by  which  they  were  to  hope  and  assuredly  come 
unto  a  blessed  resurrection  in  the  last  day.  He  desired 
some  to  pray  with  him,  and  he  joined  with  them  in  prayer  ; 
and  the  last  words,  after  he  had  struggled  with  a  languish- 
ing disease,  were,  viz.  *  Weep  not  for  me,  but  for  yourselves  : 
I  go  to  the  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  will  no 
doubt,  through  the  mediation  of  his  blessed  Son,  receive 
me,  though  a  sinner,  where  I  hope  we  ere  long  shall  meet, 
to  sing  the  new  song,  and  remain  for  everlastingly  happy, 
world  without  end.   Amen ! ' " — Museum  Sketch. 

We  are  indebted,  most  likely,  to  the  Strudwick  family, 
for  the  following  "  Dying  Sayings  "  of  Bunyan.    They  were 
first  published  by  his  successor,  Chandler,  in  1692. 
4d 


570  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


MR.    BUNYAN  S  DYING  SAYINGS. 

Of  Sin. 

Sin  is  the  great  block  and  bar  to  our  happiness,  the  pro- 
curer of  all  miseries  to  man,  both  here,  and  hereafter; 
take  away  sin,  and  nothing  can  hurt  us,  for  death  temporal, 
spiritual,  and  eternal  is  the  wages  of  it. 

Sin,  and  man  for  sin,  is  the  object  of  the  wrath  of  God. 
How  dreadful  therefore  must  his  case  be  who  continues  in 
sin;  for  who  can  bear  and  grapple  with  the  wrath  of  God? 

No  sin  against  God  can  be  little,  because  it  is  against  the 
great  God  of  heaven  and  earth  ;  but  if  the  sinner  can  find 
out  a  little  God,  it  may  be  easy  to  find  out  little  sins. 

Sin  turns  all  God's  grace  into  wantonness  :  it  is  the 
dare  of  his  justice  ;  the  rape  of  his  mercy  ;  the  jeer  of  his 
patience  ;  the  slight  of  his  power  ;  and  the  cunix,mpt  of  his 
love. 

Take  heed  of  giving  thyself  liberty  of  committing  one 
sin,  for  that  will  lead  thee  to  another  j  till  by  an  ill  custom 
it  become  natural. 

To  begin  sin  is  to  lay  a  foundation  for  a  continuance  ; 
this  continuance  is  the  mother  of  custom,  and  impudence 
at  last  the  issue. 

The  death  of  Christ  giveth  us  the  best  discovery  of  our- 
selves ;  in  what  condition  we  were,  so  that  nothing  could 
help  us  but  that ;  and  the  most  clear  discovery  of  the 
dreadful  nature  of  our  sins.  For  if  sin  be  such  a  dreadful 
thing  as  to  wring  the  heart  of  the  Son  of  God,  how  shall  a 
poor  wretched  sinner  be  able  to  bear  it  ? 

Of  Affliction, 

Nothing  can  render  affliction  so  heavy  as  the  load  of 
sin  ;  would  you  therefore  be  fitted  for  afflictions,  be  sure 
to  get  the  burden  of  your  sins  laid  aside,  and  then  what 
afflictions  soever  you  meet  with,  will  be  very  easy  to  you. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  571 

If  thou  canst  hear,  and  bear,  the  rod  of  affliction  which 
God  shall  lay  upon  thee,  remember  this  lesson,  thou  art 
beaten  that  thou  mayest  be  better. 

The  Lord  useth  his  Jiail  of  tribulation,  to  separate  the 
chaff  from  the  wheat. 

The  school  of  the  cross,  is  the  school  of  light ;  it  disco- 
vers the  world's  vanity,  baseness,  and  wickedness,  and  lets 
us  see  more  of  God's  mind.  Out  of  dark  affliction  comes 
a  spiritual  light. 

In  times  of  affliction,  we  commonly  meet  with  the 
sweetest  experiences  of  the  love  of  God. 

Did  we  heartily  renounce  the  pleasures  of  this  world,  we 
should  be  very  little  troubled  for  our  afflictions;  that  which 
renders  an  afflicted  state  so  insupportable  to  many,  is  be- 
cause they  are  too  much  addicted  to  the  pleasures  of  this 
life  ;  and  so  cannot  endure  that  which  makes  a  separation 
between  them. 

Of  JRepentance,  and  coming  to  Christ. 

The  end  of  affliction  is  the  discovery  of  sin;  and  of  thatj 
to  bring  us  to  the  Saviour ;  let  us  therefore,  with  the  pro- 
digal, return  unto  him,  and  we  shall  find  ease,  and  rest. 

A  returning  penitent,  though  formerly  bad  as  the  worst 
of  men,  may  by  grace  become  as  good  as  the  best. 

To  be  truly  sensible  of  sin,  is  to  sorrow  for  displeasing 
of  God :  to  be  afflicted  that  he  is  displeased  bg  us,  more 
than  that  he  is  displeased  with  us. 

Your  intentions  to  repentance,  and  the  neglect  of  that 
soul  saving  duty,  will  rise  up  in  judgment  against  you. 

Repentance  carries  with  it  a  divine  rhetoric,  and  per- 
suades Christ  to  forgive  multitudes  of  sins  committed 
against  him. 

Say  not  to  thyself,  to-morrow  I  will  repent,  for  it  is  thy 
duty  to  do  it  daily. 

The  gospel  of  grace  and  salvation,  is  above  all  doctrines 
the   most  dangerous,  if  it  be   received  in  word  only  by 


572  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

graceless  men ;  if  it  be  not  attended  with  a  sensible  need  of 
a  Saviour,  and  bring  them  to  him  ;  for  such  men  as  have 
only  the  notion  of  it,  are  of  all  men  most  miserable;  for  by 
reason  of  their  knowing  more  than  heathens,  this  shall  only 
be  their  final  portion,  that  they  shall  have  greater  stripes. 

Of  Prayer. 

Before  you  enter  into  prayer,  ask  thy  soul  these  ques- 
tions. 1.  To  what  endi  O  my  soul !  art  thou  retired  into 
this  place  ?  Art  thou  come  to  converse  with  the  Lord  in 
prayer  ?  Is  he  present,  will  he  hear  thee  ?  Is  he  merciful, 
will  he  help  thee?  Is  thy  business  slight,  is  it  not  concern- 
ing the  welfare  of  thy  soul  ?  What  words  wilt  thou  use  to 
move  him  to  compassion  ? 

To  make  thy  preparation  complete,  consider  that  thou 
art  but  dust  and  ashes  ;  and  He  the  great  God,  Father  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  clothes  himself  with  lights  as 
with  a  garment ;  that  thou  art  a  vile  sinner,  and  he  a  holy 
God  ;  that  thou  art  but  a  poor  crawling  worm,  and  he  the 
omnipotent  Creator. 

In  all  your  prayers,  forget  not  to  thank  the  Lord  for  his 
mercies. 

When  thou  prayest,  rather  let  thy  heart  be  without 
ivords,  than  thy  words  without  heart. 

Prayer  will  make  a  man  cease  from  sin,  or  sin  will 
entice  a  man  to  cease  from  prayer. 

The  spirit  of  prayer  is  more  precious  than  thousands  of 
gold  and  silver. 

Pray  often,  for  prayer  is  a  shield  to  the  soul,  a  sacrifice 
to  God,  and  a  scourge  for  Satan. 

Of  the  Lord' s-daysy  Sermons^  and  Week-days, 

Have  a  special  care  to  sanctify  the  Lord's-day,  for  as 
thou  keepest  it,  so  will  it  be  with  thee  all  the  week  long. 

Make  the  Lord's-day,  the  market  for  thy  soul ;  let  the 
whole  day  be  spent  in  prayer,  in  repetitions,  or  meditations  ; 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  573 

lay  aside  the  affairs  of  the  other  parts  of  the  week ;  let 
the  sermon  thou  hast  heard  be  converted  into  prayer : 
shall  God  allow  thee  six  days,  and  wilt  thou  not  afford 
him  one  ? 

In  the  church  be  careful  to  serve  God,  for  thou  art  in 
his  eyes,  and  not  in  man's. 

Thou  mayest  hear  sermons  often,  and  do  well  in  prac- 
tising what  thou  hearest ;  but  thou  must  not  expect  to  be 
told  in  a  pulpit  all  thou  oughtest  to  do,  but  be  studious  in 
reading  the  scriptures,  and  other  good  books ;  what  thou 
hearest  may  be  forgotten,  but  what  thou  readest  may  better 
be  retained. 

Forsake  not  the  public  worship  of  God,  lest  God  forsake 
thee ;  not  only  in  public,  but  in  private. 

On  the  week-day,  when  thou  risest  in  the  morning  ; 
consider,  1.  Thou  must  die ;  2.  Thou  mayest  die  that 
minute ;  3.  What  will  become  of  thy  soul.  Pray  often. 
At  night  consider,  1.  What  sins  thou  hast  committed  ; 
2.  How  often  thou  hast  prayed ;  3.  What  hath  thy  mind 
been  bent  upon  ;  4.  What  hath  been  thy  dealing;  5.  What 
thy  conversation ;  6.  If  thou  callest  to  mind  the  errors  of 
the  day,  sleep  not  without  a  confession  to  God,  and  a  hope 
of  pardon.  Thus,  every  morning,  and  evening,  make  up 
thy  account  with  almighty  God  j  and  thy  reckoning  will  be 
the  less  at  last. 

Of  the  Love  of  the  World. 

Nothing  more  hinders  a  soul  from  coming  to  Christ, 
than  a  vain  love  of  the  ivorld  ;  and  till  a  soul  is  freed  from 
it,  it  can  never  have  a  true  love  for  God. 

What  are  the  honours  and  riches  of  this  world,  when 
compared  with  the  glories  of  a  crown  of  life  ? 

Love  not  the  world,  for  it's  a  moth  in  a  Christian's  life. 

To  despise  the  world,  is  the  way  to  enjoy  heaven ;  and 
blessed  are  they  who  delight  to  converse  with  God  by 
prayer. 


574  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

What  folly  can  be  greater  than  to  labour  for  the  meat 
that  perisheth,  and  neglect  the  food  of  eternal  life  ? 

God,  or  the  world,  must  be  neglected,  at  parting  time ; 
for  then  is  the  time  of  trial. 

To  seek  yourself  in  this  life,  is  to  be  lost ;  and  to  be 
humbled,  is  to  be  exalted. 

The  epicure  that  delighteth  in  the  dainties  of  this  world, 
little  thinketh  that  those  very  creatures  will  one  day  witness 
against  him. 

On  Suffering. 

It  is  not  every  suffering  that  makes  a  man  a  martyr  ; 
but  suffering  for  the  word  of  God  after  a  right  manner  ; 
that  is,  not  only  for  righteousness ^  but  for  righteousness' 
sake  ;  not  only  for  truths  but  out  of  love  to  truth ;  not 
only  for  God's  word,  but  according  to  it :  to  wit,  in  that 
holy,  humble,  meek  manner,  as  the  word  of  God  requireth. 

It  is  a  rare  thing  to  suffer  aright,  and  to  have  my  spirit 
in  suffering  bent  against  God's  enemy,  sin.  Sin  in  doctrine, 
sin  in  worship,  sin  in  life,  and  sin  in  conversation. 

Neither  the  devil,  nor  men  of  the  world,  can  kill  thy 
righteousness,  or  love  to  it,  but  by  thy  own  hand ;  or 
separate  that  and  thee  asunder,  without  thy  own  act.  Nor 
will  he,  that  doth  indeed  suffer  for  the  sake  of  it,  or  out  of 
love  he  bears  thereto,  be  tempted  to  exchange  it,  for  the 
good  will  of  the  whole  world. 

I  have  often  thought  that  the  best  of  Christians  are  found 
in  the  worst  times ;  and  I  have  thought  again,  that  one 
reason  why  we  are  not  better  is,  because  God  purges  us  no 
more  :  Noah,  and  Lot,  who  so  holy  as  they  in  the  time  of 
their  afflictions !  And  yet,  who  so  idle  as  they  in  the  time 
of  their  prosperity  ? 

Of  Deathy  and  Judgment. 

As  the  devil  labours  by  all  means  to  keep  out  other 
things  that  are  good,  so  to  keep  out  of  the  heart,  as  much 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  575 

as  in  him  lies,  the  thoughts  of  passing-  out  of  this  life  into 
another  world ;  for  he  knows  if  he  can  but  keep  them 
from  the  serious  thoughts  of  deaths  he  shall  the  more 
easily  keep  them  in  their  sins. 

Nothing  will  make  us  more  earnest  in  working  out  the 
work  of  our  salvation,  than  a  frequent  meditation  of  mor- 
tality ;  nothing  hath  a  greater  influence  for  the  taking  off 
our  hearts  from  vanities,  and  for  the  begetting  in  us  desires 
for  holiness. 

O!  sinner,  what  a  condition  wilt  thou  fall  into  when 
thou  departest  this  world  j  if  thou  depart  unconverted  thou 
hadst  better  have  been  smothered  the  first  hour  thou  wast 
born ;  thou  hadst  better  have  been  plucked  one  limb  from 
the  other ;  thou  hadst  better  have  been  a  dog,  a  toad,  a 
serpent,  than  to  die  unconverted ;  and  this  thou  wilt  find 
true  if  thou  repent  not.  A  man  would  be  counted  a  fool 
to  slight  a  judge  before  whom  he  is  to  have  a  trial  of  his 
whole  estate  ;  the  trial  we  are  to  have  before  God,  is  of 
otherguise  importance ;  it  concerns  our  eternal  happiness, 
or  misery,  and  yet  dare  we  affront  him. 

The  only  way  for  us  to  escape  that  terrible  judgment,  is 
to  be  often  passing  a  sentence  of  condemnation  upon  our- 
selves here. 

When  the  sound  of  the  trumpet  shall  be  heard,  which 
shall  summon  the  dead  to  appear  before  the  tribunal  of 
God,  the  righteous  shall  hasten  out  of  their  graves  with 
joy,  to  meet  their  Redeemer  in  the  clouds  ;  others  shall 
call  to  the  mountains  and  hills  to  fall  upon  them,  to 
cover  them  from  the  sight  of  their  Judge  ;  let  us  therefore 
in  time  be  posing  ourselves  to  know  which  of  the  tivo  we 
shall  be. 

Of  the  Joys  of  Heaven. 

There  is  no  good  in  this  life,  but  what  is  mingled  with 
some  evil.  Honours  perplex,  riches  disquiet,  and  pleasures 
ruin  health.    But  in  heaven,  we  shall  find  blessings  in  their 


576  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

purity,  without  any  ingredient  to  imbitter ;  with  every 
thing*  to  sweeten  it. 

O !  who  is  able  to  conceive  the  inexpressible,  incon- 
ceivable joys,  that  are  there?  None  but  they  who  have 
tasted  of  them.  Lord,  help  us  to  put  such  a  value  upon 
them  here,  that  in  order  to  prepare  ourselves  for  them,  we 
may  be  willing  to  forego  the  loss  of  all  those  deluding 
pleasures  here. 

How  will  the  heavens  echo  for  joy,  when  the  bride, 
the  Lamb's  wife,  shall  come  to  dwell  with  her  husband  for 
ever  ! 

Christ  is  the  desire  of  nations,  the  joy  of  angels,  the 
delight  of  the  Father ;  what  solace  then  must  the  soul  be 
filled  with,  that  hath  the  possession  of  him  to  all  eternity. 

O  !  what  acclamations  of  joy  will  there  be,  when  all  the 
children  of  God  shall  meet  together,  without  fear  of  being 
disturbed  by  the  Anti christian  and  Cainish  brood. 

Is  there  not  a  time  coming  when  the  godly  may  ask 
the  wicked,  what  profit  they  have  in  their  pleasure  ?  what 
comfort  in  their  greatness?  and  what  fruit  in  all  their 
labour  ? 

If  you  would  be  better  satisfied,  what  the  beatifical 
vision  means,  my  request  is,  that  you  would  live  holily^ 
and  go  and  see. 

Of  the  Torments  of  Hell. 

Heaven  and  salvation  is  not  surely  more  promised  to 
the  godly,  than  hell  and  damnation  is  threatened  to,  and 
shall  be  executed  on  the  wicked. 

O  !  who  knows  the  power  of  God's  wrath  ?  none  but 
damned  ones. 

Sinners'  company  are  the  devil  and  his  angels,  tormented 
in  everlasting  fire  with  a  curse. 

Hell  would  be  a  kind  of  paradise,  if  it  were  no  worse 
than  the  worst  of  this  world. 

As  different  as  grief  is  from  joy,  as  torment  from  rest. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


577 


as  terror  from  peace ;  so  different  is  the  state  of  sinners 
from  that  of  saints  in  the  world  to  come. " 

Chandler  ^'  Wilson. 
It  will  occur,  I  think,  to  every  considerate  reader,  that 
all  this  could  hardly  have  been  said  by  Bunyan,  during  the 
short  and  sharp  illness  which  terminated  his  life.  He  was, 
indeed,  both  calm  and  collected  throughout ;  but  still,  his 
fever  was  *'  violent,"  and  it  proved  fatal  in  "  ten  days."  I 
am  compelled,  therefore,  to  regard  most  of  these  Sayings, 
as  his  occasional  remarks  during  the  whole  period  of  his 
"  sweating  distemper ;"  which  lasted.  Doe  says,  "  some 
weeks."  True  ;  these  were  "  weeks  of  going  about :"  but 
Strudwick*s  house  was  evidently  Bunyan's  home;  and  thus 
his  Sayings  would  be  marked  from  the  first  by  a  family 
who  loved  him,  when  they  saw  him  sinking  under  un- 
natural and  severe  perspirations.  It  required  but  little 
knowledge,  and  implied  no  weakness,  to  regard  a  distemper 
of  this  kind,  even  in  a  robust  frame,  as  the  forerunner  of 
a  speedy  death.  Thus  the  Strudwick's  would  begin  to 
treasure  up  Bunyan's  Sayings,  from  the  day  they  saw  that 
he  was  no  longer  a  healthy  man. 


4e 


578  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


CHAPTER   XLVI. 

TRADITIONS    AND    RELICS    OF    BUNYAN. 

It  is  not  because  I  have  now  but  little  room  left,  that  this 
chapter  is  short ;  but  because  I  am  jealous  of  whatever 
seems  apocryphal,  in  the  case  of  Bunyan.  Perhaps,  too 
much  so  :  for  I  have  rejected  not  a  few  stories,  which  were 
brought  under  my  notice,  during  my  tours  of  inquiry. 
The  fact  is, — I  have  felt  deeply  the  responsibilities  of  my 
position  ;  because  when  my  collections  are  restored  to  their 
several  owners,  this  volume  must  be  the  chief  ^i^«t/e  of  future 
Biographers ;  and  I  would  not,  willingly,  mislead  them, 
nor  tempt  them  into  fruitless  researches.  There  are,  how- 
ever, some  Traditions,  which  claim  credence ;  and  others 
which  are  worth  clearing  up,  in  the  case  of  John  Bunyan. 
His  Tomb  in  Bunhill  Fields,  is  one  of  the  latter.  There 
is  more  uncertainty  rests  upon  that,  than  I  can  account 
for.  The  public  take  for  granted,  because  a  panel  of  that 
Tomb  bears  his  name,  and  the  date  of  his  death,  that  the 
author  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  is  underneath.  He  was 
interred,  however,  at  first,  in  the  back  part  of  that  Ground  ; 
now  known  as  "  Baptist  Corner."  The  tradition  (and  I 
think  the  probahilitif)  is,  that  his  friend  Mr,  Strudwick  had 
"  given  commandment  concerning  his  bones,"  that  they 
should  be  transferred  to  the  present  vault,  whenever  an 
interment  took  place  in  it.  Strudwick's  own  funeral  was 
the  first,  in  1695  ;  and,  from  the  elegance  of  the  Tomb, 
he   seems   to  have  intended  it  rather  for  Bunyan  than 


<^/^ni)ci 


ihis  lact  Dears  equally  Hard,  However,  upon  the 
I  the  other  vault :  for  if  it  be  not  lead,  it  could  not 
ted  till  now,  so  as  to  be  identified.     Besides,  there 


-I,  ■  ^ 


/     V 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  579 

for  himself.  It  does  not  say,  however,  that  Bunyan  is 
underneath :  and  I  know  persons  of  respectability,  who 
affirm  that  he  is  not  there.  One  gentleman  assures  me 
that  the  coffin  was  shewn  to  him  in  another  vault,  in 
quite  another  quarter  of  the  Ground.  My  friend,  Joshua 
Wilson,  Esq.,  was  told,  twenty  years  ago,  that  Bunyan  was 
not  buried  in  Strudwick's  vault.  In  like  manner,  some 
of  the  Undertakers,  who  have  interred  in  that  vault,  more 
than  doubt  the  tradition,  and  regard  the  tomb  as  a  Ceno- 
taph. On  the  other  hand,  the  nephew  of  the  late  Chaplain 
of  Bunhill  Fields,  informs  me  that  his  uncle  invited  him  to 
see  Bunyan's  Coffin  in  Strudwick's  vault ;  and  the  son  of 
the  late  Manager  of  the  Graves,  always  understood  his 
father  to  mean,  when  he  said  "  that  Bunyan  was  not 
buried  there,"  that  it  was  not  his  original  grave. 

Such  is  the  conflicting  evidence,  in  regard  to  this  ques- 
tion. The  probability  is,  however,  that  Bunyan's  remains 
are  in  the  vault  of  his  friend  Strudwick.  On  no  other 
supposition  can  I  account  for  his  7iame  being  upon  the 
^/c/e-panel  of  the  Tomb.  Still,  there  are  difficulties, 
surrounding  this  supposition.  The  lowermost  coffin  in 
Strudwick's  vault  is  of  lead  ;  and  thus  it  is  most  likely  his 
own.  Besides,  it  is  allowed  that  the  coffin  immediately 
above  it  is  not  a  leaden  one.  Now  as  Bunyan  was,  if  not 
the  Chaplain  of  Sir  John  Shorter,  the  Lord  Mayor  of 
London,  yet  his  acknowledged  "  Teacher,"  as  Dr.  Southey 
has  proved  from  Ellis's  Correspondence,  vol.  ii.  p.  161  ; 
and  as  there  was  an  elegy  on  his  death  published  under 
Civic  Authority,  a  copy  of  which  is  in  the  possession  of 
John  Wilks,  Esq. ;  he  was  evidently  popular  enough  to  ob- 
tain a  leaden  coffin  when  he  died.  But  there  are  not  two 
at  the  bottom  of  Strudwick's  vault.  This  is  acknowledged 
by  those  who  have  seen  it,  in  the  course  of  the  present 
century.  This  fact  bears  equally  hard,  however,  upon  the 
coffin  in  the  other  vault :  for  if  it  be  not  lead,  it  could  not 
have  lasted  till  now,  so  as  to  be  identified.     Besides,  there 


580  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

is  no  vault  so  old  as  1688,  in  the  "Baptist  Corner"  of 
Bimhill  Fields. 

I  do  not  willingly  disturb  the  public  associations  with 
Bunyan's  tomb.  Indeed,  1  regret  that  my  own  have  been 
disturbed.  It  is,  however,  my  duty  to  state  opinion  as  it 
now  stands ;  that,  in  the  event  of  any  future  discovery,  it 
may  be  known  that  we  were  neither  ignorant  of,  nor 
indifferent  to  any  thing  connected  with  the  memory  of 
John  Bunyan.  For  the  sake  of  foreigners,  I  would  add, 
that  his  ostensible  Tomb  is  25  E.  26.  W.  26.  N.  27.  S.,  in 
Bunhill  Fields,  according  to  the  present  ground-plan. 
The  inscription,  so  far  as  it  regards  him,  has  been  repaired 
by  the  present  Curator  of  the  Cemetery,  Mr.  Upton,  at  his 
own  expense. 

I  have  spent  much  time  in  fruitless  endeavours  to  trace 
out  the  descendants  of  Mr.  Strudwick,  in  order  to  discover, 
if  possible,  some  of  Bunyan's  private  Letters.  Charles  Doe 
says,  that  his  Letters  were  "  many :"  I  shall  not,  therefore, 
believe  soon^  that  they  are  all  lost.  Let  others,  however, 
help  me  in  my  researches. 

I  gossip  away  on  the  subject  of  Bunyan,  as  if  every  one 
sympathized  with  my  own  enthusiasm  :  whereas  many  will 
laugh  at  me.  Be  it  so.  More  will  forgive  me,  and  pos- 
terity will  thank  me,  for  "  gathering  up  the  fragments" 
with  zest  as  well  as  zeal. 

Bunyan's  cottage  is  still,  substantially,  at  Elstow, 
although  somewhat  modernized.  The  gable  wall  does  not 
seem  to  have  been  much  altered,  when  the  side  walls  were 
rebuilt.  Accordingly,  the  old  woman  who  now  occupies 
the  cottage,  shews  the  place  where  Bunyan's ^br^e  was,  and 
attests  the  identity  of  the  chimney-piece  where  his  chair 
stood.  This  chair  she  knew  long  and  well,  from  having 
nursed  in  it  a  very  old  man,  who  was  the  owner  of  what- 
ever remained  of  Bunyan's  furniture.  It  was,  she  says, 
very  heavy  and  roomy  ;  and  she  thinks  that  it  is  now  in  the 
Polehill  family,  in  the  neighbourhood.     Indeed,  she  almost 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  581 

believes  that  one  of  that  family  was  chaired  in  it,  when  he 
was  elected  a  member  of  Parliament.  Bunyan*s  other 
chair  is  in  the  possession  of  the  Whitbread  family  ;  as  is 
also  his  pulpit  Bible. 

Amongst  Bunyan's  furniture,  which  her  old  master 
inherited,  she  recollects  some  hook-shelves ^  "  black  as  coal, 
and  highly  polished  j"  and  a  remarkable  chesty  which 
she  could  never  find  another  name  for,  but  "Noah's 
Ark  ;"  it  was  "  so  strange  and  roomy."  She  waxes  quite 
eloquent,  as  she  describes  this  ark  ;  and  especially  when  she 
tells  how  often  the  old  floor  gave  way  beneath  her  feet 
upstairs,  before  she  could  "  bring  her  mind  to  let  the  cottage 
be  pulled  down."  Almost  the  only  thing  she  now  has  to 
doat  upon,  is  the  main  beam  of  the  old  building ;  and  that 
she  has  cut  so  many  chips  from,  in  order  to  gratify  visitors, 
that  even  I  was  afraid  to  tempt  her  to  cut  one  for  me. 
I  left,  indeed,  with  a  very  small  one :  but  her  husband 
sent  a  larger  to  me,  by  Miss  Hillyard. 

These  are  the  chief  traditions  and  relics  of  Bunyan,  at 
Elstow.  His  seat  in  the  church  is  still  pointed  out ;  and 
the  Bell-Tower,  where  he  rung  and  trembled,  is  perfect ; 
and  the  Green,  where  he  played  at  hat^  retains  all  its 
dimensions  and  verdure ;  but  besides  these  things,  I  saw 
nothing  unaltered,  save  the  rmyon  which  shone  upon  them. 
Not  a  tree,  nor  a  hedge,  could  be  identified  with  Bunyan's 
early  sports,  or  subsequent  sorrows.  The  villagers,  how- 
ever, are  all  alive  to  the  distinction  he  gave  to  Elstow. 

The  chief  rehc  of  him  (for  his  House  is  just  pulled 
down)  in  Bedford,  is  his  Church  Book  ;  and  that  is  nearly 
perfect,  except  on  one  leaf,  from  which  a  specimen  of 
Bunyan's  writing  has  been  ripped  off  by  some  person. 
Next  in  curiosity  to  this  Book,  and  to  the  Deed  now  trans- 
ferred to  it,  is  an  ancient  cabinet,  of  small  size,  but  of 
exquisite  workmanship,  which  Mr.  White,  the  Bookseller, 
purchased  for  the  Chapel,  from  the  widow  of  a  Baptist 
Minister  in  the  neighbourhood.     It  was  long  the  property 


582  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

of  a  very  old  lady,  usually  called  Madam  BIthray,  who 
was  related  to  Bunyan.  She  g-ave  it  to  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Voley,  as  a  relic  of  the  Pilgrim.  The  Pilgrim's  staff' 
also  is  in  the  possession  of  one  of  Mr.  Voley 's  sons,  who, 
it  is  said,  would  not  part  with  it  for  any  money.  No 
wonder  I 

There  is  in  the  Baptist  Library  at  Bristol,  a  Concordance 
of  Bunyan's,  althoug-h  not  the  Concordance  which  he  had 
in  prison.  It  is  Dr.  Owen's  edition  of  Vavasor  Powell's 
pocket  Concordance ;  and  was  most  likely  Bunyan's  com- 
panion in  his  itineracies  as  a  Home  Missionary.  The 
autographs  it  contains  are  unquestionably  Bunyan's.  His 
copy  of  Foxe's  Book  of  Martyrs,  so  long*  in  the  possession 
of  the  Wontner  and  Parnell  family,  in  London,  was  sold  by 
auction  some  years  ago,  at  a  high  price ;  but  to  whom,  I 
cannot  tell.  The  public  have,  however,  in  Dr.  Southey's, 
and  in  Mr.  Ivimey's  Life  of  Bunyan,  fac-sirailes  of  what 
he  wrote  under  some  of  the  prints  in  Foxe.  I  have  not 
copied  these,  because  I  have  presented  better,  although 
fewer.  The  Signature  of  his  Deed,  is  only  a  fair  specimen 
of  his  usual  handwriting.  His  spelling,  however,  seems 
to  have  been  bad  at  all  times.  Here  is  a  specimen  of  it 
in  1662  J 

"  Hear  is  John  Jiiis,  that  you  may  see, 
Uesed  indeed  with  all  crulity ; 
But  now  leet  us  follow,  and  look  one  him, 
Where  he  is  full  feeld  indeed  to  the  brim." 

It  was  not  much  better  twenty  years  afterwards.  The 
Printers  must,  therefore,  have  taken  great  pains ;  for  even 
their  first  editions  of  some  of  his  books  are  very  correct. 
This  is,  no  doubt,  one  of  the  reasons  why  his  publishers 
opposed  Doe's  folio  edition.  They  had  expended  not  a 
little  money  in  bringing  out  the  separate  books.  Not 
upon  the  paper,  however  ;  for  it  seems  to  have  been  the 
very  worst  they  could  obtain. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  583 

Amongst  the  few  relics  in  my  own  possession  is  a 
shilling  of  Charles  II.,  in  1663,  which  was  dug  up  in 
Bimyan's  garden,  and  seems  to  have  been  presented  by  him, 
as  a  new  coin,  to  his  second  wife.  It  has  her  initials,  E.  B. 
scratched  upon  it,  in  letters  very  like  Bunyan's. 

What  I  value  most  in  my  little  Museum,  is  a  piece  of 
Bunyan's  original  Pulpit,  obtained  for  me  from  a  Home 
Missionary,  by  my  friends,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Holland,  and 
Mr.  Paul,  Banker,  of  St.  Ives,  in  Huntingdonshire.  The 
public  will  be  almost  reconciled  to  the  breaking  up  of  this 
pulpit,  when  I  inform  them  that  "  Howard,  the  Philan- 
thropist, gave  thirty  pounds  for  it,  and  a  new  pulpit  which 
cost  him  forty  pounds."  *'  At  the  same  time,  the  bene- 
volent Samuel  Whitbread,  Esq.  gave  towards  the  other 
improvements  of  Bunyan's  Chapel  126/.,  part  of  which 
was  expended  upon  the  Chandeliers." — Kilpm  and  Whitens 
Notes.  Both  Howard  and  Whitbread  had  pews  in  the 
Chapel,  which  still  remain.  Howard  built  also  a  small 
house,  which  is  still  perfect,  by  the  side  of  the  Chapel  yard, 
for  his  accommodation  on  Sabbath.  "  In  1796,  S.  Whit- 
bread, Esq.  left  500/.  in  the  3  per  cents,  as  a  bread-fund 
for  ever  to  the  poor  of  the  congregation.  His  celebrated 
son  raised  the  fund  to  980/.,  the  sum  which  500/.  pur- 
chased in  his  time  j  and  since  then,  the  present  repre- 
sentative of  the  family  has  renewed  the  bond,  and  pays 
the  interest,  29/.  8,9.  annually." — Notes.  Thus  the  loss  of 
the  old  Pulpit  led  to  the  gain  of  the  Poor,  as  well  as  to 
the  improvement  of  the  Chapel.  What  Howard  did  with 
it,  I  do  not  know.  Mr.  Hillyard  has,  however,  a  small 
Table,  which  was  made  from  it ;  on  which  he  places  occa- 
sionally Bunyan's  Cup.  That  cup  is  a  beautiful  curiosity, 
and  of  exquisite  workmanship.  It  seems,  from  the  splendour 
of  the  colours,  and  the  chasteness  of  both  the  form  and 
ornaments,  to  be  of  foreign  manufacture.  It  will  hold  about 
a  pint ;  and  tradition  says,  that  Bunyan's  broth  was  brought 
to  chapel  in  it,  for  his  Sunday's  dinner  in  the  vestry. 


584  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

There  is  one  fact  in  the  history  of  Banyan's  Chapel, 
which  illustrates  the  progress  of  public  opinion.  In  1806, 
the  Magistrates  allowed  the  County  Hall  to  be  licensed  as 
a  place  of  worship  for  the  Rev.  S.  Hilly ard  and  his  Congre- 
gation, whilst  the  Chapel  was  shut  up  for  repairs.  Such 
was  the  influence  of  Bunyan's  fame ;  of  Howard's  and 
Whitbread*s  example ;  and  of  the  character  of  the  Pastor 
and  his  flock !  This  fact  speaks  volumes,  as  well  as  redeems 
the  character  of  Bedford. 

The  traditions  about  Bunyan's  Prison  are  somewhat 
contradictory.  Some  of  them  place  him  in  the  Town  Jail, 
and  others  in  the  County  Jail ;  and  he  may  have  been  in 
both.  The  traditions  in  favour  of  the  former,  which  stood 
on  the  old  Bridge,  are,  however,  the  most  numerous  and 
consistent.  Grose  has  preserved  drawings  of  that  .Jail, 
which  shew  at  a  glance  that  it  is  large  enough  to  contain 
many  prisoners,  and  strong  enough  to  keep  them.  Bunyan's 
Prison  Thoughts,  also,  agree  best  with  the  scenery  from  the 
Bridge.  In  like  manner,  it  is  well  known  to  many  that 
the  late  venerable  and  Reverend  Mr.  Bull  of  Newport 
Pagnell,  the  friend  of  Cowper  and  Newton,  always  paused 
as  he  crossed  the  Bridge,  to  pay  homage  to  the  memory  of 
John  Bunyan.  Mr.  Kilpin  of  Bedford  was  with  Mr.  Bull 
on  one  of  these  occasions,  and  well  remembers  his  solemn 
pause,  and  his  sublime  exclamations.  I  have,  therefore, 
leaned  to  the  traditions  which  run  in  the  best  channels,  in 
placing  Bunyan  in  the  Bridge- Jail. 

Mr.  Bull,  and  many  of  his  contemporaries,  always 
believed  that  the  original  of  Bunyan's  Slough  of  Despond, 
was  a  bog  on  the  road  from  Bedford  to  Newport  Pagnell. 
This  may  be  true ;  but  I  know  some  who  find  it  in  Stowe^s 
description  of  old  Moorfields.  The  fact  is,  any  part  of  the 
Bedford  Level,  in  Bunyan's  time,  would  have  furnished  him 
with  an  emblem  of  David's  "  fearful  pit,  and  miry  clay." 
It  is  more  difficult  to  find  out  the  originals  of  the  Delectable 
Mountains  and  the  Hill  Difficulty,  in  any  of  the  scenery 
of  Bunyan's  circuits. 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  585 

T  have  been  unable  to  identify  the  spot  in  the  lilied  Ouse, 
where  Bunyan  was  baptized.  It  may  have  been  the  well- 
known  spot,  where  his  successors  administered  baptism, 
until  a  Baptistry  was  introduced  into  his  Chapel.  The 
old  Table  over  that  Baptistry  is  an  extraordinary  piece  of 
furniture,  which  for  size  and  strength  might  have  been  the 
banquet-table  of  a  Baronial  Hall.  It  is  evidently  older 
than  even  the  original  Chapel. 

There  is  a  Tablet  in  the  wall  of  the  burying  ground,  to 
the  memory  of  Hannah  Bunyan,  a  great  grand-child  of 
Bunyan's,  who  died  in  1770,  aged  76  years.  I  could  not 
find  out  where  either  his  first  or  second  wife  was  buried. 
His  Elizabeth  died  in  1691,  just  as  Doe  had  published  his 
Folio  ;  and  thus  "  soon  followed  her  faithful  Pilgrim,"  says 
a  contemporary,  "  to  dwell  in  the  Celestial  City  in  the 
presence  of  her  King  and  her  husband  for  ever."  His  son, 
Thomas,  was  a  preacher  at  that  time  ;  but  he  never  acquired 
any  notoriety,  although  he  was  much  respected.  Bunyan's 
blind  Mary  ;  for  whom  he  feared  so  much,  and  whom  he 
loved  so  deeply,  died  some  years  before  himself.  Nothing 
is  known  of  John,  Joseph,  Sarah,  or  Elizabeth,  unless  we 
suppose  that  Christiana's  children  symbolize  his  own  family  : 
which  is  highly  probable.  Mr.  Ivimey  thinks  that  Bunyan 
intended  a  Third  Part  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  to  embrace 
their  history.  He  founds  this  conjecture  upon  a  passage 
at  the  end  of  the  Second  Part.  Bunyan  says  there,  that 
*'  Christiana's  children  are  yet  alive,  and  so  would  be  for 
the  increase  of  the  Church  in  the  place  where  they  were." 
This  proves  that  he  thought  well  of  them,  on  the  whole. 
There  seems,  however,  to  have  been  some  doubts  in  his 
mind,  as  to  their  decision  :  for  he  adds,  "  I  may  give  an 
account  of  what  I  am  now  silent  about.  Meantime,  I  bid 
my  readers,  Adieu!" 

None  of  Bunyan's  descendants  are  now  known  in 
England.  Thirty  years  ago,  I  knew  some  Antiburgher 
Ministers  in  Scotland  of  the  same  name  ;  one  of  whom  was 


586  LIFE    OF    I3UNYAN. 

not  unlike  the  best  portraits  of  Bunyan  :  but  as  there  were 
no  Baptists  amongst  the  Scotch  Bunyan's  then,  and  none 
of  any  name  in  that  quarter  of  the  country  until  then,  it  is 
not  likely  that  the  family  sprung  from  the  Pilgrim.  Of 
the  spots  consecrated  by  Bunyan's  memory,  is  "  the  dell  in 
the  dark  wood  near  Hitchin,"  where  he  often  preached  at 
midnight  \  and  the  chimney-corner  of  a  cottage,  where  he 
found  shelter.  A  thousand  people,  it  is  said,  have  assem- 
bled there  to  hear  him.  The  venerable  Mr.  Geard,  A.  M. 
of  Hitchin,  told  me,  that  Bunyan  was  once  at  a  Conference 
of  Ministers  there,  when  Paul's  groans  of  the  creation  were 
discussed  (Rom.  viii.  19);  but  he  would  only  say  with 
Luther,  "  The  Scriptures  are  wiser  than  I.  The  meaning 
of  this  Scripture,  I  could  never  find  out."  Mr.  Ivimey 
says,  justly,  "  what  a  reproof  to  conceited  and  dogmatical 
interpreters !  "  Bunyan  could  reprove  even  Biblical  Critics. 
Charles  Doe  says,  "  A  scholar  overtook  him  near  Cam- 
bridge, and  asked  him,  how  dare  you  preach,  seeing  you 
have  not  the  Original  (Scriptures),  being  no  scholar? 
Then,  said  Mr.  Bunyan,  have  you  the  original  ?  Yes,  said 
the  scholar.  Nay  but,  said  Mr.  Bunyan,  have  you  the  very 
self-same  copies  that  were  written  by  the  Penmen  of  the 
Scriptures  ?  No,  said  the  Scholar  ;  but  we  have  time  copies 
of  them.  How  do  you  know  that.-*  said  Mr.  Bunyan.  How, 
said  the  scholar :  why,  we  believe  what  we  have  is  a  true 
copy  of  the  original.  Then  said  Mr.  Bunyan, — so  do  I 
believe  our  English  Bible  to  be  a  true  copy  of  the  original. 
So,  away  rid  the  scholar  !  " — Does  Circular. 

Doe  adds,  "  I  once  asked  him  his  opinion  on  a  common 
religious  point,  and  offered  my  opinion  for  the  general  of 
it :  but  he  answered, — that  where  Scripture  is  silent^  we 
ought  to  forbear  our  opinions ;  and  so  he  forbore  to  affirm 
either  for  or  against ;  the  Scripture  being  altogether  silent 
on  this  point."— 76z£/. 

I  cannot  part  with  Doe,  without  stating  that  he  generally 
calls  Bunyan,  "Our  Bunyan  j"  and  triumphs  in  the  assurance 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  '        587 

that  "  the  Champion  of  our  age "  will  be  quoted  in  the 
Pulpit,  ''  to  future  ages,"  thus, — "  The  Great  Convert 
Bunyan,  said  so  and  so."  Such  facts  may  well  excuse 
Doe's  omission  of  some  of  Bunyan*s  works,  in  the  List  he 
drew  up. 

It  is  said  by  some,  that  the  genius  of  Bunyan  so  awed 
that  miscreant  Foote,  the  player,  that  he  uttered  one  of  the 
most  eloquent  eulogiums  on  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  ever 
pronounced.  This  eulogium  was  once  repeated  to  Robert 
Hall,  at  Cambridge  ;  but  he  declared  it  to  be  "  as  much 
above  Foote,  as  it  was  unlike-  Foote."  I  cannot  repeat  it ; 
and,  therefore,  have  no  right  to  give  an  opinion.  Very 
bad  men,  however,  have  said  splendid  things  of  the  best. 
Foote  felt, 

"  How  awful  Goodness  is," 

in  the  presence  of  Whitefield  ;  and  may  have  felt  the  same 
when  perusing  the  Pilgrim. 

But  I  must  bring  this  gossip  to  a  close.  The  only 
practical ']6ke  of  Bunyan's,  I  ever  heard  of,  was  played  off 
upon  one  of  his  friends,  who  was  a  cooper.  He  saw,  on 
passing  his  shop,  some  tubs  piled  one  above  another,  and 
threw  them  down.  "  How^  now,  master  Bunyan,"  said  the 
cooper,  '*  what  harm  do  the  tubs  to  you  ?  "  *'  Friend," 
said  Bunyan,  "  have  you  not  heard,  that  every  tub  should 
stand  on  its  oivn  bottom  ?" 


588  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 


BUNYAN  S    GENIUS. 


BuNYAN  is  the  Shakespeare  of  theolog"y.  Like  the  bard 
of  Avon,  he  had  no  equal  among  his  contemporaries, 
and  has  no  rival  among-  his  successors.  Indeed  no  one 
thinks  now  of  disputing  the  palm  with  Shakespeare  and 
Bunyan  :  it  is  distinction  enough  for  modern  ambition  to 
be  critically  acquainted  with  their  peculiar  excellences, 
and  feelingly  alive  to  their  characteristic  beauties. 

It  is  a  singular  fact,  that  while  philosophers  may  be 
found,  who  think  themselves  qualified  to  improve  upon 
Neivton^  neither  the  poets  of  the  present  age  presume  to 
vie  with  Shakespeare,  nor  the  moralists  to  imitate  Bunyan. 
Had  the  author  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  "  placed  cheru- 
bim and  a  flaming  sword"  over  the  gate  of  Allegory, 
it  could  not  have  been  more  effectually  guarded,  than  it 
has  been  by  his  own  success ;  that  has  planted  in  every 
bosom  a  living  conviction  of  his  lasting  superiority  in  this 
department  of  literature.  He  has  so  endeared  his  name 
by  the  work  which  dignifies  it,  that  the  bare  idea  of 
**  another  pilgrim"  is  painful.  Perhaps  no  one  ever  wished 
for  a  second^  so  completely  is  "  the  eye  satisfied  with 
seeing,  and  the  ear  with  hearing"  \}ciQ  first.  Were  an  ap- 
peal made  to  the  public  at  large  upon  this  subject,  their 
reply  might  be  confidently  anticipated  to  be  : — "  What  can 
the  man  do  who  cometh  after  the  king?"  This  is  true 
fame,  and  it  must  be  eternal,  because  Pilgrim  embodies  in 
himself,  not  the  accidental,  nor  the  occasional  feelings  of 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  589 

our  nature,  but  the  hereditary  and  essential  ones.  His  soul 
is  composed  of  portions  from  the  spirits  of  all  men.  Were 
it  possible  to  concentrate  in  one  being  the  souls  of  mankind, 
so  that  they  should  form  but  a  single  consciousness,  Pilgrim 
would  be  a  correct  miniature  of  the  whole  ;  for  he  is  not  an 
individual  of  our  species ;  he  is  any  man,  and  every  man, 
by  whom  Christianity  has  been,  is,  or  will  be  felt.  So  long, 
therefore,  as  nature  and  grace  remain  the  same,  the  fame 
of  Bunyan  is  deathless  :  nothing  short  of  a  change  in  our 
species,  from  human  to  angelic,  or  to  infernal,  could 
destroy  the  interest  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress ;  and  even 
then,  it  would  be  interesting  as  the  representative  of  a  race 
v,'hich  had  been. 

Upon  the  supposition,  that  any  sinless  world  is  ignorant 
of  the  moral  process  by  which  man  is  "  made  meet  for  the 
inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light,"  this  book,  of  all  others, 
is  best  adapted  to  furnish  the  inhabitants  of  that  world 
with  information,  and  to  interest  them  in  our  success. 
They  could  not  mistake  the  generic  character  and  con- 
dition of  the  human  race,  after  reading  it.  This  is  more 
than  could  be  said,  either  of  Doddridge^ s  Rise  and  Progress^ 
or  of  HalVs  Zion*s  Traveller^  characteristic  as  these  excellent 
works  are.  They  are,  indeed,  better  adapted  than  the 
Pilgrim  to  teach  us  the  sober  realities  of  personal  religion ; 
but  both  would  leave  a  superior  order  of  beings  at  a  loss 
what  to  think  of  us  ;  and  for  this  reason  ; — the  ordinary 
business  of  life  is  not  sufficiently  connected  with  the  prac- 
tice of  godliness,  to  show  the  whole  character  of  a  Chris- 
tian. In  these  books  he  is  seen  only  in  the  closet,  or  in 
the  sanctuary, — upon  his  knees,  or  in  his  chair  ;  and  his 
mind  exhibited  only  while  wrought  upon  by  its  oivn\  or 
divine  influence ;  and  not  as  it  is  affected  by  public  inter- 
course and  conversation  ;  whereas,  Bunyan's  Christian 
moves  over  the  wdiole  platform  of  real  life, — fills  up  every 
hour  of  the  day, — and  never  disappears  from  morning  till 
night.     We  are  even  made  partners  in  his  dreams,  as  well 


590  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

as  companions  of  his  walks.  Not  so  with  the  Christian  of 
Doddridge  :  we  are  only  admitted  into  his  company  during- 
the  brief  periods  of  retirement  and  devotion.  We  lose 
sight  of  him  entirely  until  "the  hour  of  prayer"  return, 
and  can  only  conjecture  how  he  has  been  employed  in  the 
interval,  by  the  cast  of  his  next  meditations.  Owing  to 
this,  Doddridge's  Rise  and  Progress  would  only  exhibit  to 
the  inhabitants  of  another  world,  "  the  inner  man "  of  a 
Christian  ;  whereas  Bunyan's  Pilgrim  would  make  them 
familiar  with  both  the  outward  and  inner  man  at  once. 
This  contrast  will  account,  in  some  measure,  for  the  superior 
interest  excited  in  his  behalf:  he  is  ever  before  us. 

The  world  and  the  church  have  done  justice,  long  ago, 
to  the  genius  of  Bunyan.  He  has  obtained  already,  all  the 
heart-homage  which  can  be  paid  to  an  author,  and  stands 
in  no  need  either  of  a  vindicator  or  an  eulogist.  The 
monument  of  his  fame  has  not  been  built  with  hands;  but, 
like  the  typic  stone  of  Daniel,  "  it  has  become  a  great 
mountain,"  by  natural  and  unaided  growth.  For,  with  the 
exception  of  Cowper,  no  one  has  formally  aided  the  tri- 
umph of  Bunyan.  He  has  had  commentators,  indeed  ;  so 
have  the  Cartoons  of  Raphael  ;  but  both  had  gained  the 
applause  of  the  world  before  their  beauties  were  pointed 
out  by  a  critical  wand  :— like  the  sun,  they  revealed  them- 
selves by  their  own  light,  and  reached  their  meridian 
tabernacle  by  "  horses  "  of  their  own  "  fire."  This  is  more 
than  can  be  said  of  Shakespeare  or  of  Milton.  Indeed, 
judging  from  the  efforts  still  making  in  their  behalf,  by 
lecturers  and  critics,  one  is  tempted  to  suspect,  that  their 
admirers  have  a  lurking  fear,  lest  their  favourite  poets 
should  sink  in  public  estimation.  Granting,  however,  that 
the  only  motive  which  influences  modern  critics,  is,  to  do 
justice  to  our  national  poets,  by  acquainting  every  one  with 
their  beauties ;  surely  the  writings  which  can  dispense  even 
with  this  labour  of  love,  and  herald  themselves  into  general 
notice  and  admiration,  must  be  of  no  ordinary  character, — 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 


591 


must  have  a  charm  peculiar  to  themselves.  It  would  be 
worse  than  foolish  to  say,  that  critics  do  not  think  Bunyan 
wwth  analyzing" :  perhaps  they  do  not ;  but  the  world  think 
him  worth  reading  and  quoting ;  and  he  has  gained,  with- 
out assistance,  both  the  kind  and  the  degree  of  homage, 
which  it  is  the  object  of  criticism  to  exact  for  the  poets. 
If  it  be  "  true  fame  to  find  his  work  in  every  cottage 
window,"  Bunyan  has  it : — his  Pilgrim's  Progress  is  an 
heir -loom  in  every  family  who  read  any  thing.  It  is,  there- 
fore, in  vain  to  insinuate  the  charge  of  fanaticism  or  cant 
against  Bunyan  ;  for,  could  it  be  substantiated  from  the 
very  pages  of  his  Pilgrim,  it  would  only  render  his  triumph 
more  singular,  because  it  would  show,  that  his  beauties 
are  such,  as  not  even  his  own  hand  could  tarnish,  nor  his  own 
foibles  depreciate.  Indeed,  the  more  defects  that  ignorance 
and  impertinence  impute  to  the  author,  the  more  astonish- 
ing is  his  success,  which,  it  seems,  nothing  can  hinder. 

The  grand  distinguishing  characteristic  between  Bunyan 
and  every  other  writer  is,  that  almost  all  his  admirers  were 
made  so  whilst  but  children.  No  other  genius,  as  yet,  has 
had  this  fascination, — no  other  work  beside  the  Pilgrim, 
this  fame.  The  works  which  have  immortalized  others 
are,  without  exception,  such  as  childhood  can  neither  relish 
nor  comprehend.  Their  chief  merit  is,  that  they  amply 
gratify  the  maturity  of  intellect  required  to  grasp  them  ; 
that  they  come  up  to,  and  exceed,  the  expectations  of 
cultivated  and  expanded  minds ;  that  they  fill  the  arms  of 
ambition  to  the  utmost.  But,  whilst  "  they  have  depths 
for  the  elephant  to  swim  in,"  they  have  "  no  shallows  in 
which  the  lamh  can  wade  ;"  whereas,  the  Pilgrim  is  so  con- 
structed, as  not  only  to  interest  minds  of  every  age  and 
order,  but  the  very  things  which  are  ^' milk  for  babes"  are 
actually  ^^ strong  meat"  to  the  same  persons,  when  they 
become  men.  What  is  admired  as  history,  in  childhood, 
is  admired  as  mystery,  in  youth  ;  what  is  admired  as  in- 
genuity in  manhood,  is  loved  as  experience  in  old  age. 


592  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

The  successive  phases  of  our  minds  are,  to  the  materials 
of  the  Pilgrim,  what  the  reflectors  of  the  kaleidoscope  are 
to  the  motley  cabinet  of  atoms, — every  revolution  varies 
the  figure,  but  none  exhausts  our  curiosity ;  the  last  view- 
is  as  fascinating  as  the  first.  The  eye  of  childhood,  and  of 
old  age,  is  equally  dazzled  and  delighted  by  the  same  objects. 
The  annals  of  literature  furnish  no  parallel  to  this 
fact.  The  Cyrus  of  Xenophon  comes  nearest  to  it ;  for  it 
would  be  difficult  to  conceive  how  a  school-boy  could  cease 
to  feel  interested,  when  he  became  a  man,  in  the  enchanting 
simplicity  of  that  narrative.  But  still  the  interest  is  of 
an  inferior  kind, — rather  intellectual  than  moral ;  rather 
literary  than  either.  Whereas,  the  Pilgrim  actually  exer- 
cises the  maturity  of  those  minds  it  engaged  in  youth  ; 
and  what  was  read  for  pleasure  during  many  years,  is  read 
and  remembered  in  the  evening  of  life,  both  for  pleasure 
and  edification.  This  feature  in  the  genius  of  Bunyan 
will  become  more  familiar  by  a  reference  to  v\orks  better 
known  than  the  Cyropajdia.  The  books  which  please  us 
in  childhood,  are  in  general  "  childish  things,''  which  we 
*'  put  away"  when  we  become  men ;  or,  if  we  ever  recur 
to  them  in  after  life,  it  is  to  wonder  at  the  trifles  which 
interested  us  in  early  life.  Even  Watts's  Divine  Songs, 
although  they  do  not  sink  in  our  estimation  as  we  advance 
in  years,  do  not  rise  in  it,  upon  our  own  account.  In 
regard  to  our  own  improvement,  they  are  thrown  aside, 
in  common  with  real  trifles,  or  brought  into  notice  only  for 
the  sake  of  children.  We  expect  to  learn  nothing  from 
theju  by  continued  study.  How  different  from  all  this  is 
the  growing  interest  we  feel  in  Bunyan's  Pilgrim !  In 
childhood,  we  sit,  as  it  were,  on  Christian's  knee,  listening 
to  the  tale  of  his 

"  Hair-breadth  escapes 
By  flood  and  field." 

In  youth  we  join  him  upon  his  perilous  journey,  to  obtain 
directions  for  our  own  intended  pilgrimage  in  the  narrow 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  593 

way.  Before  manhood  is  matured,  we  know  experimen- 
tally that  the  Slough  of  Despond,  and  Doubting  Castle, 
are  no  fictions.  And  even  in  old  age,  Christians  are  more 
than  ever  convinced  of  the  heights,  and  depths,  and 
breadths,  and  lengths  of  Bunyan's  spiritual  wisdom.  The 
faultering  tongue  of  decrepitude  utters,  as  sage  maxims, 
the  very  things  it  had  lisped  as  amusing  narrative ;  and  we 
gravely  utter,  as  counsel  to  the  young,  what  we  prattled, 
as  curious,  to  our  parents. 

The  writer  is  aware,  that  he  dwells,  even  to  repetition, 
upon  this  characteristic  of  Bunyan's  genius :  he  does  so 
intentionally,  because  the  same  things  never  have  been 
said,  nor  can  be  said,  of  any  uninspired  author.  He  is  the 
rainbow  of  experience,  fascinating  for  ever.  And  these 
unparalleled  excellences  are  the  more  remarkable,  from 
their  being  almost  unconsciously  produced  by  their  author. 
They  are  not  the  result  of  design  on  his  part, — not  the 
fillings-up  of  a  studied  plan ;  but  the  very  unity  of  the  nar- 
rative arises  more  from  the  nature  of  the  subject,  than 
from  the  intention  of  the  writer.  We  are  indebted  to 
Bunyan  himself  for  our  knowledge  of  this  ;  otherwise  we 
should  have  given  him  credit  for  an  acquaintance  with  the 
rules  of  Aristotle,  so  rigidly  does  he  adhere  throughout  to 
the  unities  of  epic  poetry.  The  following  is  his  own 
account  of  the  origin  and  progress  of  his  great  work  : 

"  When  at  first  I  took  ray  pen  in  hand. 
Thus  for  to  write,  I  did  not  understand 
That  I  at  all  should  make  a  little  book 
In  such  a  mode  :   nay,  I  had  undertook 
To  make  another^  which,  when  almost  done, 
Before  I  was  aware,  I  this  begun." 

There  is  no  reason  to  question  the  truth  of  this  account ; 
for,  to  say  nothing  of  the  integrity  of  the  author,  it  accords 
with  the  experience  of  every  writer  in  whom  imagination 
is  predominant.  A  modern  critic  has  said  of  the  Germans, 
that  "  they  do  not  sit  down  to  write  because  they  are  full 
4   G 


594  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

of  a  subject,  and  therefore  must  write,  but  because  they 
are  of  opinion  that  much  may  be  made  of  it."  Now  if  by 
this  remark,  he  intends  to  insinuate  that  Spenser  was  "/w//'* 
of  the  Fairy  Queen,  or  Milton  ^^full"  of  the  Paradise 
Lost,  or  Shakespeare  of  his  historical  tragedies,  the  asser- 
tion is  more  than  questionable  :  it  contradicts  the  recorded 
acknowledgments  of  these  writers,  and  is  at  variance  with 
the  consciousness  of  every  man  who  has  composed  a  poem 
of  any  length.  Indeed  it  is  not  in  the  nature  of  genius  to 
sketch  an  outline  of  intended  creations,  and  then  to  work 
by  that  plan.  She  must,  of  course,  have  some  indefinite 
idea  of  the  object  she  proposes  to  herself;  but,  instead  of 
sitting  down,  like  an  apothecary,  to  make  up  a  given  pre- 
scription by  weight  and  measure,  genius  produces  unity 
and  effect,  owing  to  one  happy  thought  suggesting  another, 
and  to  the  harmony  which  subsists  among  natural  truths. 
This  is  not,  however,  the  place  in  which  to  amplify  this 
opinion,  nor  to  confirm  it  by  any  facts,  except  the  one 
before  us  ; — the  confession  of  Bunyan.  Now,  the  unity 
and  effect  of  the  Pilgrim  are  strictly  epic,  and  yet  he  was 
unconscious  of  any  such  design  at  the  outset. 

"  And  thus  it  was  :  I  writing  of  the  way 
And  race  of  saints  in  this  our  gospel  day. 
Fell  suddenly  into  an  allegory 
About  their  journey,  and  the  way  to  glory, 
In  more  than  twenty  things,  which  I  set  down. 
This  done,  I  twenty  more  had  in  my  crown  ; 
And  they  again  began  to  multiph/. 
Like  sparks  that  from  the  coals  of  fire  do  fly." 

This  frank  and  familiar  account  of  the  Pilgrim's  origin  and 
growth,  explains  the  true  secret  of  its  perfection  as  a 
whole,  and  enables  us  to  determine  with  certainty  to  what 
class  of  genius  Bunyan  belongs. 

These  remarks  formed  the  first  chapter  of  this  Work  in 
1818,  and  were  published  then  in  tbe  Congregational 
Magazine,  in  order  to  pledge  myself  and  tempt  others,  to 


LIFE    OF    BUNYAN.  595 

investig-ate  the  scattered  Remains  and  floating  Traditions 
of  Biinyan :  I  am  not  accountable,  therefore,  for  any 
resemblance  which  these  hints  bear  to  criticisms  of  a  later 
date.  Bimyan's  cintic,  indeed,  is  not  yet  born.  After  all 
that  has  been  written  in  compliment  and  illustration  of  the 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  it  is  still  what  Dr.  RadclifFe  called  it, 
"  A  Phcenix  in  a  Cage'*  The  progress,  however,  of  both 
critical  and  popular  opinion  in  regard  to  it,  would  form  an 
instructive  chapter :  and  that,  I  intend  to  present  in  my 
Standard  Edition  of  the  Work.  Not  that  Bunyan  needs 
"letters  of  commendation"  from  the  critics,  or  to  the 
public ;  but  that  it  may  be  seen  at  a  glance,  how  minds  of 
all  orders,  and  men  of  all  parties,  have  assimilated  around 
this  magnetic  centre  of  unity.  There  are,  indeed,  excep- 
tions to  this  rule;  but  they  are  few,  and  all  pitiable  or 
contemptible.  Dr.  Towers,  of  the  Biographia  Britannica, 
is  one  of  them  ;  and  a  writer  in  the  Penny  Cyclopaedia 
another.  This  is  the  place,  therefore,  in  which  to  embalm 
these  Bats,  for  the  inspection  of  posterity :  and  that  will 
be  best  done,  perhaps,  by  applying  to  them  what  Dr. 
Johnson  said,  with  less  reason,  to  Bishop  Percy's  little 
daughter.  The  Philosopher  took  the  child  upon  his  knee, 
and  asked  her  how  she  liked  the  Pilgrim's  Progress.  She 
said  that  she  had  not  read  it.  "  No  !  "  said  the  Doctor,  "  then 
I  would  not  give  one  farthing  for  you."  He  set  her  down, 
and  took  no  further  notice  of  her.  Johnson's  own  opinion 
will  give  weight  to  this  neiv  application  of  his  censure. 
"  Bunyan's  Pilgrim's  Progress,"  he  says,  "  has  great  merit, 
both  for  invention,  imagination,  and  the  conduct  of  the 
story :  and  it  has  had  the  best  evidence  of  its  merit ; — the 
general  and  continued  approbation  of  mankind.  Few 
books,  I  believe,  have  had  a  more  extensive  sale.  It  is 
remarkable,  that  it  begins  very  much  like  the  poem  of 
Dante :  yet  there  was  no  translation  of  Dante  when 
Bunyan  wrote.  There  is  reason  to  think  he  had  read 
Spenser." — BoswelVs  Life  of  Johnson,  p.  243. 


596  LIFE    OF    BUNYAN. 

I  have  thus  done  whatever  I  could,  to  collect  and  em- 
body the  Remains  of  John  Bunyan :  and  now,  on  closing 
this  volume,  I  claim,  as  a  right,  to  be  judged  by  the  fact, 
that  nearly  a  century  and  a  half  intervened  between  me 
and  my  subject  \  and  that  I  have  had  to  write  at  a  time 
when  it  is  unusually  difficult  to  hold  the  balance  between 
Churchmen  and  Dissenters,  firmly  or  fairly.  If  I  have 
ever  confounded  tradition  with  truth,  or  misrepresented 
any  party,  I  have  not  done  so  wittingly.  I  might,  cer- 
tainly, have  thrown  more  doubts  upon  Bishop  Barlow's 
claims  to  the  gratitude  of  posterity,  for  the  release  of 
Bunyan.  Anthony  Wood,  as  well  as  John  Howe,  rebuked 
his  spirit;  and  his  own  Letter  to  his  Clergy  in  1684,  both 
enforces  and  justifies  the  persecution  of  Dissenters,  as  wise 
and  necessary  to  "  bring  them  to  a  sense  of  their  duty,  by 
the  blessing  of  God ;  for  that,  affiictio  dat  intellectum  ! " 
Remains^  p.  642.  This  is  infamous:  but  still,  time-server 
as  he  was,  even  Wood  proves  that  he  had  Jits  of  modera- 
tion. He  alternately  loved  and  hated  James  II. ;  and  thus 
may  have  pitied  Bunyan.  I  know  of  no  other  questionable 
tradition  in  the  volume ;  except  that  about  Farry,  the 
lawyer,  defrauding  a  widow.  In  that,  he  seems  confounded 
with  Yarrow,  a  lawyer  of  Ampthill,    who  was  hung  for 

robbing  Farry's  own  widow Geard's  Notes. 

I  close  this  Work,  just  as  the  venerable  Mr.  Geard  of 
Hitchin  has  joined  Bunyan  in  heaven.  If  any  thing  new 
be  ever  added  to  the  Traditions,  it  will  be  from  his  papers. 


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A     GUIDE     TO     FAMILY     D  E  V  0  T  I  0  IM . 

Containing  730  Hymns,  730  Prayers,  and  730  Portions  of  Scripture,  with  suitable  Reflection 

Also,    AN    APPENDIX,    comprising    a    great  variety  of   Prayers    to  suit  particular   Day 

''easons,  Circumstances,  and  Events  of  Providence.     The  whole  arranged  to  form  a  distuic 

and  complete  Service  for  every  Morning  and  Evening  in  the  Year. 

BY  THE  REV.  ALEXANDER  FLETCHER, 

Of  Finsbury  Chapel,  London. 

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Rev.  W.  B.  CoLLYER,  D.D.,  Peckham,  Rev.  J.  E.  Good,  Gosport,  Rev.  G.  Collison,  D.D.,  Hackney, 
J.  Gilbert,  Islington,                                  J.  Davies,    ~|  Samuel  Ransom,  Hackney, 

J.  A.  James,  Birmingham,  G.  Legge,      J. Bristol,  H.  Calderwood,  Keudal, 

Samuel  Luke,  Chester,  W.  Brown,  J 


I  feel  it  right  to  express  my  opin-'^Ti  that  the 
plan  is  excellent;  and  that  the  vxecuiion  of 
the  plan  is  judicious,  and  well  adapted  to  its 
purpose,  as  an  aid  to  the  great  duty  and  bless- 
ing of  family,  conjugal,  and  secret  worship. 


Homerton  College. 


On  examination,  I  am  much  pleased  with 
it,  ("A  Guide  to  Family  Devotion,")  and  feel, 
when  I  am  called  to  leave  my  family,  thai  I 
leave  for  its  use  a  good  substitute  behind  me. 


// 


/-^^--T-- 


Kenninpton  Common. 


I    highly  prize   your  volume  of   "Family   Devotion,"    and   thmk    it  well  adapted 
secure  the  objects  to  which  you  aspire.     The  Selections  of  Scripture  are  judicious ;  the  Sacred 
Songs  which  you  have  introduced  are  appropriate  and  diversified;  the  Reflections  and  forirs 
of   Prayer  are  short,  simple,  and  calculated  to  impress  the  minds  of  children  and  servant 
and  as  a  whole,  I  think  the  work  is  likely  to  prove  a  valuable  aid  to  the  piety  of  households 


Hackney. 


<^t^^^^i^-y\.     O^^^/ir^Z^^^^ 


I  am  enabled  to  speak  with  propriety  and  confidence  of  the  real  worth  and  admirabl 
adaptation  to  usefulness  of  your  Work.  I  have  used  it  much  in  my  own  family,  and  I  cai 
truly  say  that  as  I  advance  it  grows  in  my  esteem.  You  have  rendered  a  most  importan 
service  to  christian  households  by  your  labours,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  its  circulation  wil 
be  as  extensive  as  your  most  sanguine  expectations  could  anticipate. 


Liverpool. 


New  and  Valuahle  Tyorhs published  by  G.  VIRTUE. 

RECOMMENDATIONS  OF  THE  REV.  ALEX.  FLETCHER'S  "  GUIDE  TO  FAMILY  DEVOTION." 


I  consider  it  a  vast  advantage  to  persons  who  begin  housekeeping,  if  unaccustomed  to 

xtemporaneous  prayei-,  to  have  such  a  help  to  devotion  as  your  work  affords.      Mr.  Philip 

rlenry  used  to  remark  "  those  who  prayed  in  their  families  did  well ;  those  who  prayed  and 

ead  the   Scriptures   did  better ;  but  those  who  prayed   and  read  and  sang,  did  best  of  all." 

admire  therefore  your  plan,  which  combines   these  parts  of  worship,   where,   if  a   suitable 

lymn  cannot,  through  circumstances,  be  sung,  it  may  be  "said."      Many,  especially  Females, 

ive    felt    considerable   difficulty  in   conducting   family  worship,    for  want  of  a   selection  of 

jriptures  adapted  to   family    reading,   this  difficulty  your  work  meets,    and   cannot  but  be 

ppreciated  by  a  large   class   of  the   christian   community.      The  work   appears  to  me  to  be 

xccuted  devotionally,  which,  in  my  opinion    is  a  strong  recommendation  of  its  excellency. 

^Vith  many  sincere  wishes  for  its  success. 

/     j/^ 
Surrey  Chapel  House.  ^     '  /^ /^^£/^{y'»'-y^  iXA.A~^ 


I  have  been  particularly  pleased  with  the  adaptation  of  the  several  hymns,  portions  of 
Scripture,  and  prayers  to  each  other.  The  general  character  of  the  whole  is  excellent ;  and  I 
trust  the  work  will  be  found  eminently  useful  in  the  promotion  of  domestic  piety.  That  result 
will  doubtless  be  esteemed  by  you  an  ample  reward  for  the  labour  you  must  have  expended. 


/f^L^p^^/^j-^(U^--^^-c/h^ 


I  regard  this  "  Guide"  as  eminently  calculated  to  lead  on  to  the  fulfilment  of  that 
prophecy,  "  Elijah  shall  turn  the  heart  of  the  fathers  to  the  children,  lest  1  come  and  smile  the 
earth  with  a  curse."  Much  both  of  the  mantle  and  the  spirit  of  Elijah  has  fallen  upon  the 
author  of  this  timely  work. 


Newington  Green. 


e^ 


C         ey/t  {>C<^^ 


The  evangelical  strain  of  the  prayers  gives  them  an  advantage  over  most  other  forms 
which  have  been  published  for  families  :  I  mean,  not  only  the  savour  of  evangelical  feeling  and 
motive  with  which  they  are  imbued,  but  the  frequent  addresses  which  are  intermingled  to  each 
Divine  Person  of  the  Trirme  Jehovah.  I  trust  that  your  labours  will  lead  many  families  to  a 
practical  use  and  enjoyment  of  the  glorious  privileges  of  the  gospel. 


15,  Finsbury  Circus. 


Now  Publishmg,  a  New  Work  for  the  Young,  by  the  same  Author 


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"Waldenses,"  &c. 

Illustrated  hy  One  Hundred  and  Eight  splendid  Engravings  from  Drawings  taken  on 
the  spot  by  W.  H.  Bartlett,  Esq.  With  a  large  Map  of  the  Country,  corrected  to  the 
present  time  by  the  Author  of  "  Switzerland." 


Dedicated,  by  Permission,  to  Her  Most  Gracious  Majesty  Queen  Victoria. 

CALEDONIA  ILLUSTRATA. 
In  Two  elegant  4to.  Volumes,  bound  in  neat  cloth,  with  gilt  leaves,  price  3/.  3s. 

,  ,^        SCOTLAND, 

By  William    Beattie,    M.D. 
Illustrated  by    One   Hundred  and   Twenty  splendid  Engravings,  recently  taken  by 
Messrs.  T.  Allom,  W.  H.  Bartlett,  &c.     Engraved  by  Messrs.  Wallis,   Cousen 
Richardson,  Willmore,  &c.  &c.     With  a  large  Map  of  the  Country. 


165 


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